Table of Contents
 	 Title Page
 	 Copyright Page
 	 Dedication
 Acknowledgements

 	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
 	CHAPTER 20
 	CHAPTER 21
 	CHAPTER 22
 	CHAPTER 23
 CHAPTER 24

 	CHAPTER 25
 	CHAPTER 26
 	CHAPTER 27
 	CHAPTER 28
 	CHAPTER 29
 	CHAPTER 30
 CHAPTER 31

 THE CRYSTAL AND THE DRAGON

 	With a dramatic suddenness that you do not expect from a world in which you have lived for three months, and which has rained al day on the road you have to ride tonight, the dark arch of Claudiaâ€™s tower window lit up with silver. 
 	The roiling depths of the golden globe stil ed; the rich light dimmed to gray; and from a little spark of red in the globeâ€™s center there grew the stately form of a dragon. It grew to the size of the globe, to the outermost diameter of its glow; and stopped, before Ted had to decide whether he was going to leave the room, possibly dragging Ruth with him. 
 	The wind rattled the windows. Ted could feel his heart thumping in his ears. He had a good side view of the dragon, which floated with its tail to the trap-door and its head toward Randolph, at the window. The dragon was bright red with touches of black. It was a very twisty, decorated dragon, with seven claws on each foot and a great many tendrils and spikes and whiskers. 
 	Ted didnâ€™t want that huge, tapering head to look in his direction. It had black eyes with red pupils and could have looked at him, if it had wanted to, without turning its head. 
 	But its gaze was bent on Randolph. Randolph went down on one knee and bowed his forehead onto the other. It was the most extravagant gesture of respect that Ted had ever seen anybody in the Secret Country make. 

 	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
 	Â 
 	First published in the United States of America by Ace Books, The Berkley Publishing Group, 1989 
 	Published by Firebird, an imprint of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 2003 
 	Copyright Â©c) Pamela Dyer-Bennet, 1989
 	All rights reserved
 	eISBN : 978-1-440-68445-6
 	Â 
 	Â 
 	http://us.penguingroup.com
 	
 	 To Patricia Wrede,  
 	 whose patience has been so sorely tried ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
 	I am greatly obliged to David S. Cargo for the design of Heathwil Library; and to Michael Mornard for advice concerning the castle of the Dragon King. 
 	As always, I owe more than I can say to Steven Brust, Nate Bucklin, Emma Bul , Kara Dalkey, Wil Shetterly, and Patricia Wrede for providing kindness and censure in the appropriate doses. 
 	
 	Her Gentle and Fruitful Grace, Ruth, Lady of the Green Caves, formerly Princess of the Hidden Land and Lord of the Kingâ€™s Forests, to their Excel ent and Estimable Lordships Randolph, Kingâ€™s Counselor, and Fence, Councilâ€™s Wizard, greetings. 
 	Â 
 	 3 September 490
 	Â 
 	 Dear Fence and Randolph, 
 	 I did try to write this in your manner, but I was afraid you would never unravel it. I am going to write in plain English, and trust to your perspicacity to understand. 
 	 I am not Lady Ruth of the Green Caves. Edward, Patrick, Ellen, and Laura are also not who you think they are. We come from somewhere else, where, for years and years, the five of us played a game. The game was you, The Secret Country. We had the characters, the people, right, except for Claudia. We had never thought of her. And we didnâ€™t have the story exactly right. But we would play the Banquet of Midsummer Eve, and Randolphâ€™s poisoning of the King, and the battle with the Dragon King; and in the end Edward found out that Randolph had killed his father, and so he killed Randolph in the rose garden. 
 	 These events and people seemed strange and wonderful to us, and altogether different from the lives we led. 
 	 This summer we couldnâ€™t play. Ellen and Patrick and I were living about as far away from Ted and Laura as itâ€™s possible to be, and we were all very unhappy. But Patrick found a sword under a bottle tree. It glowed green. 
 	 Itâ€™s the one you called Melanieâ€™s. Ted and Laura found a sword under a hedge. That one glowed blue, and you called it Shanâ€™s. The hedge was the same as, or like, the hedge in front of the House by the Well of the White Witch. And that house was also in our world. 
 	 If you hold Melanieâ€™s sword and crawl under the bottle tree, you come out in a place called New South Wales. If you hold Shanâ€™s sword and crawl under the hedge, you come out in a place called Illinois. And if you begin in those places and crawl under with the swords, you find yourself in the Hidden Land. Thatâ€™s how we got here. Benjamin thought we were your royal children. And yours werenâ€™t around to contradict him. So we played our parts as best we could. You must understand that we did not, in the beginning, necessarily intend any deception. We were not certain that you were real at all; and yet you were the people we wanted most to meet in the world, and the Secret Country was the place we wanted most to be, and the princesses and princes you knew were the people whose parts we most dearly desired. We had doubts even then, and these doubts grew on us as we found our parts more difficult to play in truth than they had been in semblance; but by then we were entangled, and feared to do ourselves, and perhaps you also, more harm than good by a confession. Nor did we know what to confess. We thought we were in truth your royal children, or as near as you could get. It seemed to us that, if they were not back in our places contending with the strangeness of our lives, which we knew they were not, then they were nowhere except within us. 
 	
 	 But when Ted was in the land of the dead, waiting for Lord Randolph and me to ransom him, he saw and spoke to all five of them. Edward told Ted that Claudia had killed them with a stratagem and a potion. This was not of our game. We grieve for your loss. If there were anything we could do to Claudia, we would do it. We think it best to go home, leaving you an account of what we know. We have left the swords, one under the hedge before the house, and the other under a bottle tree perhaps fifty yards to the right of it. 
 	 There is one other thing. Time flows in your world just as it does in ours. This startled us, because in the stories weâ€™ve read, matters were better arranged. If we were a long time in the Secret Country, our guardians at home missed us and were angry, and if we were a long time at home Benjamin and Agatha missed us and were angry. 
 	 So we bethought us of the Riddle of Shanâ€™s Ring, that it might blow time awry, so we could stay a long time in your country and be gone but a moment from ours. 
 	 Ellen and I took Shanâ€™s Ring to the hedge through which Ted and Laura had come into this country. And we tried diverse methods; and when we stood in our own world, and I stood outside the hedge, and Ellen stood in the yard of the house, I threw the Ring over the hedge to Ellen and said the verse aloud. There came a flash of purple light, and a gap opened in the hedge. I saw the Secret Country in it, so I came through back to this place. But Ellen saw the house light up, and a woman burst out of the door brandishing a broom and shouting incomprehensible things. This woman was the Lady Claudia, whom you know. 
 	 Ellen ran for the hedge, and Shanâ€™s sword, which she held, pulled her down to show her where the Ring lay, and when she retrieved it, she came through the hedge back to this place and fell in the stream. 
 	 Now I thought that what had happened to Ellen had taken longer than what had happened to me. So I took Shanâ€™s Ring and went through the hedge. And I was in a strange country that looked like the Secret Country, in that it held the Well of the White Witch, and the plain, but that looked most unlike it in that the air and sky were glassy and felt altogether odd and unpleasant, and there was an army on the plain. So I came back quickly to the Secret Country. But you should note that this place in which I had found myself was the selfsame place in which Lord Randolph and Fence and I stood much later when we bargained with the unicorn for Edward Fairchildâ€™s life. 
 	 Now, once I had gone through the hedge with both the Ring and Shanâ€™s sword, I found myself back in our world again, and sat there for a little while, and came home. But for Ellen hours passed and the sun rose and she was greatly vexed. So we thought that Shanâ€™s Ring had changed the rate at which time passed, and we would be safe to stay here until the storyâ€™s end. 
 	 But we find now that, knowing you and knowing Lord Randolph, we do not like the end of the story, and fearing to give you more pain than joy if we stay, we have gone. 
 	 Two more matters. First, in our game, Lord Andrew was a spy of the Dragon King; so have a care of him. And second, in sober reality, Randolph pledged his life for the return of Edward Fairchild. But he didnâ€™t get Edward Fairchild. He got Ted Carroll, whom he knows not and doesnâ€™t want. So you might try that on the unicorns if they get fussy. 
 	 We thank you for our sojourn in your country, which is one of the best ever we saw or heard tell of; and we repent of our deception; and we wish you well. 
 	Â 
 	 Believe me, good sirs, your most obedient, most affectionate, most humble servant, Â 
 	 Ruth Eleanora Carroll
 	
 PROLOGUE

 	THEY had set free the fire of her house. That was noth ing. 
 	Her house had been burned by the master of fire, and she had restored it. She had burned in such fire as made this a dance of sunlight on water, bright but harmless. But if they had intended not her destruction but their own escape, they had succeeded. And there were others in her house less inured to fire. She cal ed the water-beasts without the proper forms of their names. They would match this discourtesy by coming without further preliminaries, and thus escape the fire. As she thought so, they surrounded her, bubbling and spouting. The faint smoke in the room was overlaid with damp purple mist, and the fireâ€™s crackling drowned in the rush and murmur of innumerable waters. She wished it were better than an il usion. 
 	â€œFlee the fire,â€ she said. â€œAfter the time it takes to boil six kettles, I wil requite this barbarous rudeness.â€​par 	They hissed like a gal on of water spil ed on a giantâ€™s griddle, and were gone. The smoke grew thicker. She could not remember how many cats were in the house, and cursed the humor that made them al black cats. She cal ed each catâ€™s six names, and in a little time had al nine of them climbing her skirts. No cat that had lived with her feared fire. 
 	But they were indignant, and disposed to be intransigent. 
 	She crouched and gathered them in, grinning. So those children had broken the mirrors in her house. Who would break the mirrors in her mind? 
 	She spared a moment to look into one that offered no escape: not for her, and not for those she looked at. She saw Fence and Randolph, in High Castle, in its Mirror Room. They did not know what its mirrors could accomplish, and in any case were occupied with other matters. It pleased her to see them standing there as the outline of their doom took shape, surrounded by salvation and thinking it ornament. 
 	Randolph was thinner than when she had danced with him at Midsummer Eve, his face sharper, his green eyes darker, his wild black hair limp and his bewitching voice hardly better than a croak. He looked as if he had been il a fortnight. 
 	â€œTruly I felt such nudgings and nibblings as thou ex-plainest thus,â€ he said, â€œbut I tel thee, Fence, not once did I feel them regarding King Wil iam. That foul crime I did of my own wil .â€​par 	She had never seen Fence look like this. Nothing she did could make him suffer so. Randolph could make him suffer worse, and, before the end, no doubt he would. 
 	â€œWil you, then,â€ said Fence, â€œtel me why?â€ His round green eyes and innocent face beneath the untidy brown hair were not amusing, and his shortness was no cause for contempt. He was formidable. 
 	â€œThat you might be here to reproach me,â€ said Randolph. He suffered Fenceâ€™s look and countered with mere steadiness. He seemed to be bearing some pain so great that he dared not attend to it. She had never seen Randolph look so, either. 
 	She reached out a hand, and frowned. Her mind-mirrors were but doors or windows; they were not, as the mirrors of her house had been, instruments of her wil . She could work no nudgings and nibblings from here. 
 	
 	â€œBetter far that I were dead, having had no doubt of thee while I lived,â€​aid Fence, stil looking up at Randolph. 
 	â€œWhat? Dead, the truth undiscovered?â€ said Randolph. The mockery in his voice was mild, but she felt it in her bones like a curse. So, it seemed, did Fence. 
 	â€œYou made this truth!â€ shouted Fence. â€œSpare me your convolvings.â€​par 	â€œI had thought to,â€ said Randolph, and the mockery now was leveled at himself. â€œEdward, I thought, had kil ed me long since.â€​par 	â€œEdward,â€ said Fence, as though he stil did not believe it, â€œis dead. You are the Regent.â€​par 	â€œI am a regicide.â€​par 	â€œA perfect jest, then,â€ said Fence. â€œHaving kil ed King Wil iam, his heir dead already, you must take Wil iamâ€™s place.â€​par 	â€œThat is madness.â€​par 	â€œNo,â€​aid Fence, â€œit is justice.â€​par 	She laughed. She would not have thought of this. Had those children done it? Both men started at the laugh; Randolph drew his dagger. She chuckled, in her mind only, as they snatched back the tapestries covering the mirror. 
 	Their arts could not discover her, unless she continued so careless. 
 	â€œAn the very air laugh at us, is that not justice also?â€
 	said Randolph. 
 	Fenceâ€™s mouth quirked, but he said nothing. 
 	â€œFence, it is not justice to make me king. What of the country? I am a poison as potent as that wherewith I struck down Wil iam, the only antidote thereto being my death.â€​par 	â€œIf that were al , al would be easy,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œYou are not the poison. Your act is that. Though you die and enter the shadows and forget what you have done, yet you have done it, and al our history to come is poisoned thereby. At least stay and see your handiwork.â€​par 	â€œStars in heaven,â€ said Randolph. As he had in the event, he looked far more poisoned than had the dying King. 
 	â€œThe lesson of Melanie was ever bitter to your mind,â€ said Fence. â€œLearn it now with your heart. Life gained by treachery is a pain sharper than death.â€​par 	In her fury at this statement, though it was an old axiom in the teachings of the Blue Sorcerers, she almost spoke aloud to them. But a brisk blow on her cheek brought her back to the burning house, where an unhappy cat resented her neglect. 
 	â€œQuite right, smal one,â€ she said to it. â€œAl attend.â€​par 	She found in her mind a mirror that was a door, and sent three cats where they would be most useful. She found the second door, and pul ed herself and the other six cats through it, to her House in the Hidden Land, four leagues from where Fence and Randolph turned and turned in the maze she had made for them. She must consider now whether it was stil possible to bring them to the trap at its heart. 
 	
 CHAPTER 1

 	THAT was good,â€ said Laura mournful y, and licked an escaped drop of ice cream from her elbow. 
 	â€œYou donâ€™t sound like it,â€ said her brother. The lock of hair on the right side of his face was sticky with chocolate ice cream, but he managed to look and sound superior just the same. 
 	â€œI thought,â€ said Laura, who was used to this, â€œthat maybe I wouldnâ€™t like ice cream anymore.â€​par 	â€œYou wanted the Secret Country to leave its mark, huh?â€​par 	â€œWel â€”â€​par 	â€œYou just look at that scar on your knee if you want to see a mark,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Three smal children pushed between them, and they moved slowly away from the drugstore and down the dusty summer street. Laura had never before thought it possible to be tired of summer. 
 	â€œLetâ€™s go home,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIâ€™m not used to it yet. If we get home before dark they wonâ€™t be too mad.â€​par 	â€œOh, my God!â€ said Ted, stopping dead before a gas station. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€ Laura said, looking at him careful y. It was hard to concentrate on his expression. He looked so peculiar in his too-short jeans and his too-tight shirt, with the thick, light brown hair down past his shoulders. 
 	
 	Laura supposed she looked peculiar too. Her shorts fit wel enough, but her blouse was too tight across the shoulders now and too short to tuck in. 
 	â€œShanâ€™s Ring didnâ€™t work,â€ said Ted, in a tone of outraged disbelief. â€œWeâ€™ve been gone for months.â€​par 	They had been gone for months, struggling through an imaginary world come gruesomely to life. Hence their old clothes no longer fit them, and Tedâ€™s hair was too long. 
 	â€œLooks like summer to me,â€ said Laura, taking in with a gesture the violent blue sky, the deep green of the oak and maple trees, the daisies blooming in the yards of old houses, the drooping peonies with their petals showered to the ground. 
 	â€œRemember when we left?â€​par 	It seemed a very long time ago. Laura scowled. Sneaking down the stairs, she had fal en over her shoes; the refrigerator in the moonlight had looked like a polar bear; they had argued over whether, since they had deserved to be sent to bed without supper, they could take any food with them now; they had argued over whether it was right to bring a flashlight to the Secret Country, where such things were unknownâ€” 
 	â€œIt was night,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œAnd itâ€™s not night now. Shanâ€™s Ring was supposed to bring us back within five minutes of the time we left.â€​par 	And from the scanty and anonymous evergreen shrubs that failed to decorate the ugliness of the gas station, a cardinal whistled its ascending song. 
 	
 	â€œI told you,â€ said Laura. From a distance of perhaps three feet, careful to make no sudden move, she addressed the cardinal. â€œMysterious servant of unknown forces; minion of the Secret Country. Whatâ€™s going on?â€​par 	â€œThey canâ€™t talk!â€ said Ted, with an enormous and hurtful scorn. 
 	Laura looked sideways at him and decided that half of it was fear. She was frightened herself. â€œCan you take us to someone who can tel us whatâ€™s going on?â€ she said to the bird. 
 	It flew halfway down the street and alighted on the wrought-iron arm of a bus-stop bench. 
 	â€œCome on,â€ said Laura. She grabbed Tedâ€™s hand. â€œHow else are we going to find out whatâ€™s wrong with the magic?â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™re finished with magic,â€​aid Ted. 
 	The cardinal began to sing again. 
 	â€œMaybe,â€ said Laura, in the manner of the Secret Country, â€œmagic hath not finished with us.â€​par 	This had sounded merely clever as she said it, but watching Ted hear it she thought it had an ominous ring, and wished she had kept her mouth shut. 
 	â€œYou know what Shan said,â€ she offered. â€œIf say No you wil , then say it as late as may be.â€​par 	â€œWhere did you get that?â€​par 	Laura gulped. It had come from the back of her mind, the part that knew more than she, and recognized things she had never seen. â€œI guess Princess Laura read it somewhere,â€​he said. 
 	
 	â€œYouâ€™ve stil got Princess Laura? Because Edwardâ€™s gone.â€​par 	This was extremely disconcerting. Laura had Princess Laura stil in the back of her mind, and Laura thought the cardinal meant something more than natural. Ted no longer had Edward, and Ted thought the cardinal was just a cardinal. â€œSo,â€ said Laura, with a hideous feeling in her stomach, â€œI better go by myself.â€​par 	Ted stared at her and gave a most unpleasant laugh. 
 	â€œServe you right if I let you.â€ There was a monstrous pause. â€œFeel free,â€​aid Ted. 
 	The cardinal hooted at them and rose fluttering from the bench. Laura was not sure she could move. She looked at Ted. He was looking at the cardinal, with about the same expression as he had worn long ago when he found out that Laura, reading his enormous copy of The Mysterious Island in the bathtub, had dropped it in the water. 
 	â€œBy the mercy of Shan,â€ said King Edward, between his teeth, â€œmay we not al rue this day. Come on, Laurie.â€​par 	The cardinal had an upsetting understanding of traffic lights, sprinklers, children playing softbal in the street, unsteady fences, unfriendly dogs, irate bicyclists, and the other hazards encountered by two people fol owing a bird through unfamiliar territory. It led them through the little business district where they had bought their ice cream, past streets of huge old houses and huger older trees, through empty back yards and down crooked al eys, across a busy street, under a freeway, down a clean, white, empty road and into a housing development so new that half the houses had no lawns yet. The houses were very large, somewhat odd, and extremely expensive-looking. The cardinal shot past them al , waited in a little stand of trees the bul dozers had missed, and with one last triumphant whistle perched on a mailbox and folded its wings. 
 	Ted and Laura panted up, sweating and red-faced. They stared past the cardinal over a long slope of blowing grass, at the top of which stood a house. It was like a stack of wooden blocks that somebody had brushed against: untidy and lop-sided, but not actual y fal en over. Its windows were round or triangular, its winding flagstone walk absolutely bare. 
 	â€œGah!â€​aid Laura. â€œWhat an ugly house!â€​par 	â€œLucky for us, maybe,â€ said Ted. â€œYou liked the Secret House. Remember who lived in that.â€​par 	Laura looked at the mailbox, which said, in gold letters, APSINTHION. â€œThe nameâ€™s ugly too,â€​he said. 
 	â€œMaybe the Apsinthions wonâ€™t like ours, either,â€
 	said Ted. 
 	They walked up to the blank wooden door and pushed the button beside it. Inside the house they heard a melodious but disorganized rattle, as if somebody had poured a handful of marbles into a glass jar. 
 	The door opened inward, and a man from one of Lauraâ€™s visions stood smiling at them. No, magic had not done with them. 
 	Beside Laura, Ted jumped. Laura went on staring. The man, glimpsed so briefly in a vision she had hoped she wasnâ€™t having anyway, real y did, under this more leisurely examination, look like Fence and Randolph. He was short, as Fence had been. He had Fenceâ€™s straight brown hair, better cut; but Randolphâ€™s sharper face. The long hand that held the edge of the door was Randolphâ€™s. The grin was Fenceâ€™s, and so were the round green eyes. Randolph had had almond-shaped eyes, usual y narrowed. In Randolphâ€™s face, the eyes of Fence looked less ingenuous. 
 	Stop thinking about Fence and Randolph as if they were dead, Laura told herself. She looked at the manâ€™s eyes again for reassurance. They held a tiny spark of red. 
 	Perhaps, Laura thought hopeful y, itâ€™s just the way the light hits them. But he wore a red robe too. In style it was like the ones they had grown accustomed to at High Castle. But it was red, and so were his boots. Nobody at High Castle had worn red, except Claudia. 
 	The man watched them looking him over, and the glint in his eyes deepened. He was stil smiling. 
 	Ted cleared his throat. Laura wondered how long they had been staring. â€œMy lord,â€ said Ted, â€œthe cardinal brought us.â€​par 	â€œIn his name, be welcome,â€ said the man, and he stood aside to let them in. His raspy voice was only vaguely familiar. 
 	Ted took her by the hand, and they walked boldly past the man into his house. Pale polished floors stretched al around them, gleaming in the light from high windows. Out of the corner of her eye Laura saw red cushions, and black, and white; and dark wooden tables. 
 	The man in the red robe shut the door behind them with a hol ow boom. Laura, starting, saw Ted jump too. 
 	â€œWho are you?â€​aid the man in red. 
 	
 	Ted hesitated. â€œEdward Carrol ,â€ he said, and, defiantly, â€œcrowned King of the Secret Counâ€”the Hidden Land. This is the Princess Laura, my sister, as royal as I.â€​par 	The Princess Laura, alerted by his tone, worked this out and grinned. 
 	The man in red stood stil , as Fence would do if you startled or intrigued him. â€œThe name of the royal house of the Hidden Land,â€​e said, â€œis Fairchild.â€​par 	â€œSo it is,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Laura saw him trying not to grin, and worked that out too. 
 	Apsinthion didnâ€™t like their name. 
 	â€œOho,â€ said the man. â€œSits the wind in that quarter?â€​par 	â€œDid you expect this?â€​ed asked him. 
 	â€œExpectation,â€ said the man in red, â€œfoils perception.â€​par 	â€œWhat do you perceive?â€ said Ted. Laura admired this response. 
 	â€œThat you are of two minds, to go or stay.â€​par 	â€œDid you send the cardinal for us?â€ said Ted. Laura recognized the resigned determination of the voice he used in Twenty Questions, a game he despised. 
 	â€œI send the cardinals to bring me news,â€ said the man in red. â€œI have had stranger news than you in my time, but not in this place.â€​par 	â€œThe news isnâ€™t about this place,â€ said Laura, when Ted was silent. â€œDid you send the cardinal before?â€​par 	
 	â€œWhere?â€​par 	â€œIn this place,â€ said Laura, realizing that â€œThe Secret Houseâ€ would mean nothing to him. â€œTo One Trumpet Street,â€ she added. She wondered if addresses meant anything to him either. There had been none on his mailbox. 
 	â€œOh, criminy!â€ said Ted. â€œLaura! One Trumpet Street?â€​par 	Laura scowled at him. She knew that tone. 
 	â€œOne trumpetâ€”one horn. Unicorn!â€​par 	â€œWhat a stupid joke.â€​par 	The man in red took three steps forward and laid a hand on Tedâ€™s shoulder. Laura wondered why he flinched; the man was hardly touching him. 
 	â€œWhat knowest thou of unicorns?â€​par 	â€œWhat should I know, if Iâ€™m King of the Hidden Land?â€​par 	â€œWhat thou shouldst know hadst thou been heir thereto, is no matter; what thou dost know as a stranger, I would be told, and quickly.â€​par 	â€œWhy should I tel you anything?â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™ve been tel ing him, Ted,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œWel , maybe we should stop.â€​par 	â€œHeâ€™s been tel ing us, too.â€​par 	â€œA just observation,â€ said the man in red, letting Ted go. â€œAnd yet perhaps what you wish to know, I have not told. Wil you tel me, what beast is it the dwel ers of High Castle pursue each summer?â€​par 	
 	â€œThe unicorn,â€ said Laura, pleased with herself. She felt Ted glaring at her. 
 	â€œWhat beast flees not the winter?â€​par 	â€œThe unicorn!â€​par 	â€œAnd what beast hath given its voice to the flute?â€​par 	â€œThe unicorn,â€​aid Laura, desolately. 
 	â€œWel done. Now. What beast is it the unicorns pursue each summer?â€​par 	Ted and Laura looked at each other. 
 	â€œBefore what beast doth winter flee?â€​par 	Ted made an angry noise between his teeth. 
 	â€œWhat beast maketh that which putteth the words to the fluteâ€™s song?â€​par 	Ted looked thoughtful for a moment, but said nothing. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said the man in red. â€œWhen you know these things, then what manner of thing I am you wil know also.â€​par 	â€œ Did you send the cardinal to One Trumpet Street?â€
 	asked Laura. 
 	â€œTel me what it did there, and I wil tel thee if â€™twas of my sending.â€​par 	â€œLaura, shut up,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIt made me trip,â€ said Laura, recklessly, â€œand fal through a hedge.â€​par 	â€œShut up!â€ said Ted. â€œAs your sovereign lord, I command you!â€​par 	â€œThat,â€​aid Laura, bitterly, â€œis a dirty trick.â€​par 	
 	â€œBut needful, perhaps, to kings,â€ said the man in red, with surprising mildness. He cocked his head, studying them. â€œThy sister is wise,â€ he said to Ted. â€œBy the terms of my most carelessly offered bargain, I must tel you that, indeed, the cardinal was of my sending.â€​par 	â€œDid you meanâ€”â€ said Laura; then she remembered her oath of fealty and the order just delivered, and closed her mouth hard. 
 	â€œI think,â€ said the man in red, â€œthat we must endure long speech with one another. Wil you sit down?â€​par 	Laura hesitated, a hundred parental warnings about accepting hospitality from strangers coming tardily to mind. 
 	If Ted remembered these, he showed no sign. â€œThank you,â€​e said, rather grimly. 
 	They fol owed the red-robed man across the room and sat down on cushions. 
 	â€œHave you drunk of the Wel of the White Witch?â€
 	said the man. 
 	â€œWhat wil you tel me if I tel you that?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œOnly that it is therefore safe for you to drink the sole refreshment I have to offer.â€ He looked them over and smiled again. â€œMy messengers set perhaps too swift a pace for the wingless.â€​par 	â€œThank you,â€ said Ted. â€œWeâ€™d like some water.â€​par 	The man in red left the room. 
 	â€œDo you know him?â€​hispered Ted. 
 	â€œNo. I saw him in a vision. He was reading the book where the dragon burned down the Secret House.â€​par 	
 	â€œAnd now weâ€™ve burned it down again,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œHe looks like Fence and Randolph.â€​par 	â€œMaybe heâ€™s an ancestor. Are Fence and Randolph related?â€​par 	â€œâ€˜izards have no kin,â€™â€​uoted Laura. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™ve got to come from somewhere.â€​par 	â€œI know. I just meant it might be hard to find out.â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s impossible to find out, here. Unless he tel s us.â€​par 	â€œWhy shouldnâ€™t we tel him stuff?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œBecause we donâ€™t know whose side heâ€™s on, dimwit!â€​par 	When Ted started cal ing names, you could continue on into a satisfactory quarrel, but you were unlikely to actual y get anything accomplished. Laura kept her mouth shut, and the red man came back into the room carrying a tray. 
 	It was lacquered a bril iant blue, and as the man took from it the thick familiar mugs of High Castle, Laura saw on its flat surface the stylized figure of a red running fox. The emblem of the Fairchild family, the royal sigil of the Hidden Land. 
 	â€œHave you a right to that?â€​emanded Ted, sounding very like King Edward. 
 	The man turned his head and looked quite fierce for a moment; Laura was glad he wasnâ€™t looking at her. Then he let his breath out and took a drink from his mug. 
 	â€œMore right than thou,â€​e said, amiably. 
 	â€œIâ€™m bound by an oath, at least,â€​aid Ted. 
 	
 	â€œI also,â€​aid the red man. 
 	â€œLook,â€ said Ted. â€œThis isnâ€™t getting us anywhere.â€​par 	â€œI,â€ said the red man, â€œneed go nowhere. It is thou, and thy sister, that must needs go.â€​par 	â€œWhere?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œTo the Hidden Land, to finish out thy tale.â€​par 	â€œWe donâ€™t want it to finish,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIt wil finish without you,â€ said the red man. â€œAl you have striven to abolish wil come to pass, while you dal y and eat sweetmeats.â€ His tone stung like dust blown on a high wind. 
 	â€œThe cardinal showed us the sweetmeats!â€ said Laura, hotly. 
 	The man smiled, and drained his mug. â€œThe cardinal hath his humor also,â€​e said. 
 	Laura took a drink from her own mug. Clear, icy, piercing, the water of the Wel slid down her throat. She remembered the baked-grass smel of the plain, the heat in the air wavering like water, the sun striking awful visions from the distant windows of the Secret House, her cousins squabbling, Benjamin riding over the horizon with the dreaded horses. She desired more than anything else to be back in the Hidden Land. 
 	â€œWil al we want to abolish come to pass,â€ said Ted, who had been staring at the floor for some time, â€œif we go back?â€​par 	â€œYou are able to prevent it.â€​par 	Ted and Laura looked at each other. That they were able did not mean that they would. 
 	â€œWhy should we believe you?â€ said Ted. He took a swal ow of water, and Laura saw him blink. â€œCan you prove this? Who are you?â€​par 	â€œCome upstairs,â€​aid the red man. 
 	
 CHAPTER 2

 	SHE stood in a dusty room and scowled. The cats sat on the floor and sneezed. The water-beasts, whose notion of tidiness was that one spoke to them properly, oozed and burbled in a mild discontent caused by having been moved. 
 	She strode across to the window, stumbling slightly on a clutter of bones. The cats, flowing after her, stopped and began to circle the pile, sniffing. Claudia looked through the grimy glass. Where she should have seen the tops of trees, the vanishing and reappearing slide of the little stream, the round pink dot of the Wel and a vast stretch of baked brown grass, there lay the enigmatic expanse of the Gray Lake. Its flat dark surface took the peaceful evening sky and mirrored it into the semblance of an approaching storm. Its long shape was lavishly fringed with goldenrod. Beyond it, steep yel ow-clad slopes wandered away, and above them mountains lost themselves in mist. 
 	The air was ful of voices. â€œSomethingâ€™s amiss,â€
 	she said, to make sure, and instantly they echoed and answered her. 
 	 Nothing comes amiss, so money comes withal. All is amiss. Love is dying, Faithâ€™s defying, Heartâ€™s denying. Nothing shall come amiss, and we wonâ€™t come home â€™til morning. Mark what is done amiss. 
 	She fixed her eyes on the red gingham cuff of her dress, where the machine-made lace staggered like a badly drawn rune; and the voices stopped. She had found them useful and pleasant once; but they were mockery as often as they were counsel, and there was no manner of tel ing which from which. 
 	She turned to the mirrors in her mind, but their power was dimmed. She had been bound here once. And in any case, the blue flame, whereby she knew the hearts of the children, burned here also, but like the conflagration of a summer forest after lightning. Even if they had seen or heard tel of this place, the childrenâ€™s little flicker, that gave her the best part of her power, would be lost in the larger burning. 
 	To tamper with this greater fire would give notice to those she wished, for a while yet, to avoid. 
 	 I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker, said the voices. 
 	â€œSo, my old enemies,â€​he said, and chuckled. 
 	She stepped around the fascinated cats, avoided the water-beasts, and walked down the long hal to the rooms at the back of the house. Faintly beneath the smel of dust and water, the scent of cinnamon stil lingered. The voices said, A man cannot be too careful in the choice of his enemies. 
 	She laughed; and, as often happened, this silenced them. 
 	The room of mirrors was glittering clean. She moved from one little diamond pane to another, until she found what she sought. The youngest girl and the oldest boy, staring in awe, fear, and suspicion at a man in a red robe. 
 	â€œAnd my old friends too!â€​aid Claudia. 
 	 Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more; Or close the wall up with our English dead!  She scowled again, considering that. Some of the voices spoke mere gibberish, and not any foreign tongue she knew the sound of. But even in those that spoke most clearly, odd words would surface from time to time. English dead. What sort of dead were those? The sort that walked, perhaps. As she did, and the man in red also. 
 	She laid her hand upon the glass. â€œBurning one,â€
 	she said, â€œknoweth Chryse what thou art about?â€​par 	The children did not hear her, but he did. He only smiled. 
 	With the spatter and drum of rain on a roof, the water-beasts rampaged into the room behind her and demanded the explanation she had promised. She smiled too. 
 	â€œThat one, children,â€ she said, and showed them the man in red. â€œNot the little ones whom you have seen before. That one.â€​par 	
 CHAPTER 3

 	UPSTAIRS in the house of Apsinthion was a room of mirrors. They were everywhere, in frames carved and gilded, or plain and unstained, or worked silver, or jeweled gold. Little ones lay on al the furniture. Large ones swung gently on stands of wood or metal. They held a hundred copies of the red ceiling, the polished wooden floor, the sunshine fal ing through the windows, the summer sky of Il inois that lay flat against the glass of the skylight like a layer of paint. 
 	â€œOh, God,â€ said Ted to Laura, as they stood arrested in the doorway. â€œIs he like Claudia?â€​par 	Laura pointed silently at the mirror they stood before. It showed only themselves. They walked into the room, avoiding the first mirror and finding themselves again in a larger one. Their host appeared behind them in that mirror and waved his hand at it. A wash of blackness went down its surface, and they saw, as if they rode across the plain at a distance, High Castle with the mountains at its back. For a moment Ted thought they were looking at a sunset, and then he knew. High Castle was burning. Fire leapt from every wal , and met itself in the moat as half a tower fel hissing. 
 	The outer wal s that should hide the moat from view were down already. 
 	â€œDid we do that?â€ said Laura. She sounded as if she were sure of it. Ted supposed that if you spent your whole life breaking things without meaning to, you might easily believe that any catastrophe was your fault. 
 	â€œYour absence wil doâ€™t,â€​aid Apsinthion. 
 	
 	â€œHow?â€ said Ted. He felt Laura looking at him, probably admiring his composure. Never mind that his hands were shaking. 
 	â€œLord Andrew hath his suspicions even now,â€ said the man in red. â€œThink you what he wil tel the council: What is easier to believe, those things writ iâ€™the letter Fence hath, or that Fence and Randolph plot against al the royal house?â€​par 	â€œBenjaminâ€™d have better senseâ€”â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œOh, aye,â€ said the red man, in Benjaminâ€™s manner exactly. â€œBenjamin, and Agatha, and Matthew. 
 	Hence civil war, and Randolphâ€™s death; a land divided, and no certain heir.â€​par 	â€œCan you send us back?â€​sked Ted. 
 	â€œI can.â€ He met Tedâ€™s eyes in the mirror. The little flame in his obscured the pupils. â€œBut know that other powers may so sort themselves that I cannot send you home again.â€​par 	Lauraâ€™s face grew shocked, and she stared into the mirror. Apsinthion tucked his hands up in the sleeves of his robe and seemed prepared to stand behind them as long as was needful. 
 	Ted tried to think. He looked around Apsinthionâ€™s house, which was congenial to him in a remarkable degree. 
 	You could have a place like this yourself, he thought. After col ege. He had just started junior high. Ted sighed. 
 	He thought of his one or two bril iant teachers (usual y in subjects he didnâ€™t like or wasnâ€™t good at), one or two cruel or foolish ones, the rest amiable and forgettable; the other kids, with their peculiar preoccupations: television, video games, sports, clothes; nothing that was both real and beautiful. Vacations: reading, hiking, bicycling, watching television to see if it had gotten any better, quarreling with Laura, plotting with Laura new twists for the Secret Country, and waiting, waiting for the summer when they could return to their best reality. This summer, as blank as the television screen when the set was off, and promising even less. 
 	If he went back, he could be a king (falteringly, and for a little while), rescue five children from the land of the dead (perhaps), save Randolph from the unicorns (how?), live in High Castle (until they threw him out because he wasnâ€™t real). If you want to save people, join the Peace Corps, he thought. If you want adventure, be an astronaut. 
 	No. The Secret Country was smoothed to the contours of his mind (or they to it). However he balked at its refusal to conform to his plot, however bizarre the vistas it had yet to reveal to him, whatever the Outer Isles and Fenceâ€™s Country were real y like, they would speak to him (or he to them) in ways that the Moon or Mars never could. Even if he became a doctor and cured everyone in sight, the accomplishment would be hol ow beside dragging five royal children from the shadows to which he himself had, perhaps, consigned them. That was the point. He was responsible for the Secret Country. 
 	He turned to his sister, who was chewing the end of her left braid and looking close to tears. She hated being at the Barrettsâ€™ more than he did. She hated school more too. 
 	She was not stupid, and could have been perfectly happy sitting at the back of some classroom, reading and writing and spel ing and learning the names of al the presidents of the United States before anybody else had figured out what a president was. But when they tried to teach her spel ing with a modified Bingo game that required you spel your word at the top of your voice, she was doomed. Laura, thought Ted, wouldnâ€™t shout in front of twenty-five other third-graders if it would win her a mil ion dol ars. 
 	Had the Secret Country been even worse for her? She had been endowed with peculiar powers, and required to shout about them, but perhaps Fence and Randolph were an easier audience than her peers. 
 	Oh, hel , thought Ted. He had forgotten their parents. They might have gone off to Australia without him, but that was hardly comparable to vanishing into an imaginary country without leaving so much as a farewel letter. And if he and Laura did leave a farewel letter, everybody would think they had gone crazy, or been kidnapped, or both. 
 	â€œShanâ€™s mercy,â€​e said. 
 	â€œNot yet,â€​aid the man in red. 
 	Laura jerked her head around and fixed wet eyes on Ted. 
 	â€œWe have to go back,â€​he said. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t cry about it!â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m not crying at you,â€ said Laura, with dignity. 
 	â€œI saw something in the floor.â€​par 	The man in red took two paces away from them, frowning. 
 	Laura said, â€œI saw Fence kil ing Randolph.â€​par 	â€œI suppose youâ€™d rather see me doing it?â€​par 	â€œYou show him,â€ said Laura to the man in red. â€œIt sounds stupid when I say it.â€​par 	â€œThat is a grave failing,â€​aid the red man, clinical y. 
 	You creep, thought Ted. â€œYouâ€™d better show me,â€​e said. 
 	
 	The man shrugged once, like Fence, and walked across the floor to the most ornate of the wal mirrors. Its carved wooden frame was six inches wide, showing the story of an old man and a young man and a group of animals: cat, dog, eagle, horse, unicorn. In the center of the top piece was a gilded sunburst. 
 	Ted and Laura looked at each other. 
 	The man in red tilted his head at the mirror, which abode unchanging, giving them his slight form and enigmatic face, Tedâ€™s tousled head at his shoulder, and at Tedâ€™s shoulder Lauraâ€™s fraying braids and wet blue eyes. 
 	â€œPurgos Aipos Autika,â€ said the man; or something like it. 
 	The interior of the mirror wavered and steadied. Fence and Randolph faced one another in the rose garden. It was late autumn and early evening, and the rain poured down around them, so that the scene was blurred as if the mirror needed dusting. But their swords blazed, blue and green, and springing back from the blades the raindrops sparked like fireworks. 
 	â€œNo, never mind,â€ said Ted, reflecting that he would rather trust Laura than the red man, and not caring to see more. 
 	â€œBut, Tedâ€”â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s okay, I believe you. But what if we canâ€™t get home?â€​par 	â€œHe didnâ€™t say we couldnâ€™t get home,â€ said Laura, violating one of the tenets of good manners by referring to their host as if he were not present. â€œHe said he couldnâ€™t send us home again. Thereâ€™s stil the swords.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s true,â€ said Ted. â€œAnd now that we donâ€™t have to pretend anything, we should be able to get Fence to let us use them.â€ He turned to the man in red. 
 	â€œBut how do we prove anything to Fence and Randolph?â€​par 	â€œAsk them the three riddles,â€ said Apsinthion. 
 	â€œThey wil have more need than you to find the answers. 
 	Also,â€ he said, slowly, â€œtel them this. To Fence, â€˜l may yet be very wel .â€™ And to Randolph, â€˜a Bel e Dame sans Merci hath thee in thral .â€™â€​par 	â€œClaudia?â€​aid Ted. 
 	Their host smiled. â€œIâ€™l set you on your journey,â€
 	he said. 
 	â€œWait a minute,â€ said Ted. â€œThe last time we left, we set up magic so weâ€™d only be gone five minutes here. But it didnâ€™t exactly work. And we canâ€™t just disappear. Our parents would worry.â€​par 	â€œWhat manner of magic?â€​aid the man in red. 
 	â€œShanâ€™s Ring.â€​par 	 â€œThou?â€​
 	â€œWel , Ruth, actual y.â€​par 	â€œLady Ruth of the Green Caves?â€​par 	â€œUhâ€”â€​par 	â€œAnother changeling?â€​par 	â€œWel , yes.â€​par 	â€œ Now whoâ€™s tel ing too much?â€ demanded Laura. 
 	
 	â€œWeâ€™re trusting him to send us back.â€​par 	Laura was silent. 
 	â€œIâ€™l strike you a bargain,â€ said the red man. 
 	â€œBy your oaths to the Hidden Land, use not Shanâ€™s Ring even in direst peril. And Iâ€™l blow time awry for you, that you be not missed.â€​par 	â€œWhatâ€™s wrong with Shanâ€™s Ring?â€​par 	â€œAl too little,â€ said the red man, with a wry face, as if he were making a joke. â€œIt doth wake powers that are better sleeping.â€ He frowned. â€œHow often hath this thing been used?â€​par 	Ted thought about it. He couldnâ€™t remember exactly what Ruth had done to change the time. â€œTwo or three times, I think.â€​par 	â€œThree wil doâ€™t,â€ said the man in red. â€œWalk warily.â€ He frowned again. â€œIt may be,â€ he said, â€œthat that use did but awaken me. But wake not the others; in especial, wake not more than one. If they confer together, touching the disturbance, they wil seek you to your peril.â€​par 	â€œOkay,â€​aid Ted, â€œI promise.â€​par 	â€œAnd thou, Princess?â€​par 	Laura hesitated, frowning. Then her face cleared. 
 	â€œYes,â€ she said. â€œI promise, by my oaths to the Hidden Land, not to use Shanâ€™s Ring.â€​par 	â€œThen come away,â€​aid the man in red. 
 	Ted wondered what Laura was thinking about. If it had been Ruth or El en or Patrick, he would have wondered what she was up to, but Laura was not a schemer: the trouble was to get her to do anything, not to keep her from doing too much. 
 	The man stopped beside a tal , narrow mirror with a plain silver frame. They walked over to him, a little slowly. He smiled. â€œPurgos Aipos Nun,â€​e said, and then, to Ted, â€œGo quickly.â€​par 	Ted turned sideways and stepped careful y into the mirror. 
 	It gave before his shoulder like cloth, and he put his head out into cloth-smel ing dimness and the sound of weary voices. 
 	He stepped through and was instantly entangled in heavy material. He pushed at it, and it parted for him. He was behind the Conrad tapestry in the Mirror Room at High Castle. Fence sat on Agathaâ€™s sewing-table, and Randolph sat on the floor. They did not look at one another. 
 	Laura bumped Ted from behind and said frenziedly, â€œThe house is flooding! Purple water!â€​par 	â€œShut up!â€ Ted didnâ€™t care what was happening back at the stark house. Their business was with Fence and Randolph, who now knew a great many awful things about them. 
 	Fence and Randolph looked up, and then stared. 
 	Randolph stood up. There was no expression on his face at al , but Laura stopped trying to talk. 
 	â€œEdward?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Ted, his throat hurting him. â€œItâ€™s just me.â€​par 	â€œWherefore,â€ said Randolph, as if he were demanding an explanation for the back gate left open and the dog lost, or perhaps a large hole dug in the back yard without permission, â€œart thou returned?â€​par 	
 CHAPTER 4

 	LAURA was so shocked by Randolphâ€™s tone of voice that she forgot about the purple water. There was a calculation in the way Fence and Randolph looked at her that had not been there before. They knew who she was now; or, no. They knew who she wasnâ€™t. 
 	Ted said, â€œWe were sent back, by a man in a red robe.â€​par 	Laura saw Fenceâ€™s head come up, like that of a cat who hears you open the refrigerator. But Randolph said, in the same unfriendly voice, â€œWherefore did you let him do so?â€​par 	â€œHe said that if we didnâ€™t, everything we strove to prevent would come to pass.â€​par 	â€œWho was he?â€ said Fence. His voice was merely neutral, but in him this was as great a change as the hostility in Randolph. 
 	â€œThe mailbox said Apsinthion.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s wormwood,â€ said Fence, with a kind of skeptical surprise. â€œWhat manner of man was he?â€​par 	Laura wished they could al sit down. But the room contained one sewing-table, on which Fence was stil sitting, and Agathaâ€™s high-backed chair with the tapestry cushions, on which she would have felt wrong sitting even before they left. 
 	â€œHe looked like you and Randolph,â€ said Ted, â€œonly mixed together. He had a house ful of mirrors.â€​par 	
 	Fence and Randolph turned to one another; for a bare instant everything seemed familiar. Then Fence looked away, sharply, and said to Ted, â€œWhat else?â€​par 	â€œOkay,â€ said Ted. He began with their encounter with Claudia in the yard of her house, in their own world; and ended with their stepping through the mirror into this room. 
 	At no point in his narrative did Fence or Randolph ask for any clarification. Randolph, in fact, showed no reaction whatsoever. Fence took the story in as though he were judging it for a contest. Ted saved the three riddles and the messages for last. The riddles evoked no response. â€œAl may yet be very wel â€ made Fence rol his eyes. â€œLa Bel e Dame sans Merci hath thee in thral â€ produced, final y, a reaction from Randolph. 
 	â€œWhat tongue is that? What mean those words?â€​par 	â€œFrench,â€ said Ted, gloomily. â€œI donâ€™t know.â€​par 	â€œTwo unhandily returned is already two moreâ€”â€
 	said Randolph; Fence glanced at him and he stopped. 
 	â€œIt sounds,â€ said Laura, â€œlike it means â€˜he beautiful lady who never says thank you.â€™ â€​par 	Fence actual y smiled at this, but Randolph went on looking at the floor. Fence said, â€œWherefore may we regard these words if we know them not?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s Randolph whoâ€™s supposed to regard them,â€ said Ted. â€œYouâ€™re supposed to regard Shanâ€™s. Al may yet be very wel .â€​par 	â€œAnyone may quote Shan,â€ said Fence, â€œand most have.â€​par 	The devil, thought Laura, can cite Scripture for his purpose. But Shan wasnâ€™t Scriptureâ€”was he? 
 	Ted must have been thinking something similar; he said, â€œI am made al things to al men, that I might by al means save some?â€​par 	Fence slid down from the table and strode across the room in a swirl of black. He stopped in front of Ted, and the smel of burning leaves engulfed Laura two feet away. If Ted grew a little more, thought Laura crazily, he would be able to look Fence right in the eye. Fence appeared merely intent, but his voice was furious. â€œWhere read you that?â€ he said. 
 	â€œ I read it in the First Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians,â€ 
 	said 
 	Ted. 
 	â€œBut 
 	Edwardâ€™s
 	remembering it.â€​par 	Laura did not know what Ted had hoped to achieve with this revelation. She herself was relieved; she thought of the dead Prince Edward as an al y. Fence said, â€œDear heaven,â€ in the tone of a man whose child has brought home a stray python. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œEdward speaks to him,â€ said Fence, without looking around. 
 	â€œHow?â€ said Randolph to Ted, not altogether as if he were prepared to believe him. 
 	â€œIn the back of my mind, somehow, or underneath.â€​par 	â€œI suppose,â€ said Fence wearily to Laura, â€œthat the Princess Laura speaks to thee also?â€​par 	â€œYes,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s why I thought we might be able to get them back,â€​aid Ted. â€œWe seem to be connected.â€​par 	â€œFence?â€ said Randolph; Laura concluded that, whatever Fence understood, Randolph did not. 
 	â€œYou have not read in that book either,â€ said Fence, turning and staring at him. â€œBut Edward hath.â€​par 	â€œWhat book?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThis speaking of Edward in the backward of your thoughts,â€ said Fence, â€œis a devising of Melanie, that she worked on Shan without his wil . He wrote on it in his reports to the Blue Sorcerers, saying, â€˜ must be al things to al men, that I might by al means save some.â€™â€​par 	Laura doubted that that was what Saint Paul had been talking about, but this was no time to say so. 
 	â€œWhat bearing hath this on the present issue?â€
 	Randolph said. 
 	â€œA moment,â€ said Fence, and to Ted, â€œA cardinal did deliver you to this man in red?â€​par 	â€œThen let his minions have the care of them,â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œRandolph, for the love of heaven!â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œThereâ€™s no blame on the children.â€​par 	â€œIs there not?â€ said Randolph. He jerked a wad of paper out of the long jacket he wore and flung it down on Agathaâ€™s table. The top sheet was covered with Ruthâ€™s round, back-handed writing. She wrote that way because a teacher had once chided the left-handed Patrick for doing it. 
 	â€œDidnâ€™t Ruth say we didnâ€™t know?â€
 	demanded Ted. 
 	
 	â€œEvil done unknowing yet hath evil effect,â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Fence, â€œthat is ice so thin thy feet are wet eâ€™en now. Let be.â€​par 	â€œWe thought we might be able to make it up to you,â€
 	said Ted. 
 	Scorn drew itself along Randolphâ€™s face like ink spil ing on the white tiles of a bathroom floor, and Laura felt cold. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Fence; and Randolph shut his mouth. â€œHow?â€​aid Fence to Ted. 
 	â€œHave you told anybody about that?â€ asked Ted, pointing to Ruthâ€™s letter. 
 	â€œNo.â€​par 	â€œAl right. So we can prevent the civil war by pretending weâ€™re the real royal children. And maybe we can tel you enough about our game for you to figure out what Claudiaâ€™s doing and why. And maybe we can get your royal children back for you.â€​par 	â€œIt was bravely done,â€ said Fence, in the kindest voice he had used yet. â€œBut we wil do wel enough. Do you go to your homes and regard us not.â€​par 	â€œYou have got to be kidding,â€ said Ted. Laura recognized the signs of a monumental fury, and could not decide if she wanted to keep quiet or help him out. 
 	â€œHow in the hel ,â€ said Ted, â€œdo you expect us to regard you not? Weâ€™ve lived with you for three months; and we lived with you for years before that, real y. Youâ€™re part of our lives whether you like it or not. And I promise you,â€ finished Ted, in a dire tone Laura had seldom heard out of him, â€œthat weâ€™l use whatever power we have to make your lives miserable if you donâ€™t let us stay and help.â€​par 	â€œOh, thatâ€™s logic indeed,â€ began Fence, in a tone of exasperated amusement; but he was overridden. 
 	â€œThat,â€ said Randolph, not loudly at al , â€œis the outside of enough. Begone from here and do your worst, or stay and regard ours. There are dungeons in High Castle deep enough for the likes of you.â€​par 	Laura thought that Ted should have known better than to threaten Randolph. 
 	â€œAl right,â€ said Ted. â€œAl right. May I remind you of something? Youâ€”both of youâ€”swore me an oath.â€​par 	Randolphâ€™s face was so terrible that Laura looked away from it. But Fence, after a moment of anger as monumental as Tedâ€™s, simply sat down on the floor in the midst of his black wizardâ€™s robes and laughed until he cried. 
 	There was a petrifying pause. Laura looked only at Fence. 
 	His giving up of dignity hurt less than Tedâ€™s dirty tactics or Randolphâ€™s loss of control. He had never been very dignified anyway. When he stopped wheezing and pushed his hair out of his red face, Laura, greatly daring, edged around Ted, sat down beside Fence, and offered him her handkerchief. 
 	â€œShanâ€™s mercy,â€ said Fence, taking it and blowing his nose vigorously. â€œShanâ€™s mercy on the lot of us, itâ€™s better than we deserve. Thy lessons from Edward were wel learned, my lad.â€​par 	â€œFaugh!â€ said Randolph, stil not loudly. â€œHad they been wel learned, I were dead long since.â€​par 	Fence looked up at him, al hilarity gone. â€œNo,â€ he said. â€œThose were your lessons. Not Edwardâ€™s. And not mine.â€​par 	They were going to start arguing again. Laura looked hopeful y at Ted. 
 	Ted took a very deep breath and pushed his fists into the pockets of his jeans. Laura knew he wanted to yel . But you didnâ€™t yel at Fence and Randolph. As King Edward, Ted might have come to it in the next few months; and they might have let him get away with it. But as Ted, he had to start al over; worse than that, because they didnâ€™t want him. Al the kindness and trust he had had from them these three months had been for Edward, and the actions that they had approved of were not, now, marks in his favor but rather evidence of betrayal. 
 	â€œYouâ€™d better go,â€ said Fence again. â€œAnd of your courtesy, save your il -wishing for more worthy foes.â€​par 	â€œNow look,â€ said Ted, not yel ing. â€œI didnâ€™t come back here for my health. A sinister man came close to making us come back. He asked three riddles you havenâ€™t even considered, and he gave us one quotation from your world and one from ours. Youâ€™re not thinking. 
 	Al you want to do is get rid of us. I wouldnâ€™t want to look at us either, if I were you. But we didnâ€™t kil those kids. 
 	Claudia did it. And she did to us the exact same things that we did to youâ€”but she knew it. Weâ€™re as mad at her as you are.â€​par 	Laura admired this logic. He should have tried it before the threats. 
 	
 	Fence quirked the corner of his mouth and looked at Randolph, who, without noticing, slapped his hand down on Agathaâ€™s table and started to speak. Fence, with his habitual gesture, put a hand on Randolphâ€™s wrist. 
 	Randolph turned on him with a ferocious expression. Fence took his hand away. 
 	â€œI would cry you mercy,â€ said Randolph to Fence, â€œwere there mercy in the universe to nick the edge of my iniquity.â€​par 	â€œTake less pleasure in thy mouthings,â€ said Fence, in an astonishingly deadly voice, â€œand thou shalt have mercy enow.â€​par 	There was a pause worse than the last one. Then Randolph said, â€œWhat, a vil ain that mouthes not?â€ and without waiting for an answer, turned to Ted. Laura saw that Fence looked more relieved than otherwise. 
 	â€œDo we grant,â€ said Randolph to Ted, in a cooler voice than he had used with Fence, â€œthat until we have studied what to do, â€™tis better for the country that nothing seem to be amiss, wil you in turn agree that you are nowise trained for statecraft and that for you to take up your duties would be disaster?â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, â€œI donâ€™t know about disaster, but I donâ€™t real y want al my duties. What do you propose to do?â€​par 	â€œRandolph is Regent,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œI have told you, no,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œWhat 
 	about 
 	you, 
 	Fence?â€ 
 	said 
 	Laura. 
 	â€œCanâ€™t you help Ted?â€​par 	â€œIn the end,â€ said Fence, â€œwhat Edward orders, that must we accomplish. But if you wil agree to take my guidance, Edward, and to gainsay my advice only under desperate conditions, I think we wil deal very wel .â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s fine with me,â€​aid Ted, quickly. 
 	â€œExcel ent,â€ said Fence. â€œNow. For al to seem as it was, it is needful that we retrieve your companions from their exile. They are gone by way of the green sword under the bottle trees, and may be recovered by that means?â€​par 	â€œWel , yes and no,â€ said Ted. Laura was rather taken aback by the speed with which plans were being made, but Ted seemed to be fol owing them wel enough. 
 	â€œWe can get to where they are that way. But then weâ€™l have to persuade them to come back.â€​par 	â€œIt liked them wel enough before,â€ observed Randolph. 
 	â€œIt didnâ€™t like Patrick,â€ said Ted. â€œHeâ€™s like Andrewâ€”he doesnâ€™t believe in magic. Being here just drove him crazy.â€​par 	â€œWel , we wil try what persuasion we may,â€ said Fence. â€œAnd in any case â€™twere fol y to leave so potent a weapon lying about in the woods like an abandoned dol .â€​par 	Laura thought this was unfair, given al the trouble they had taken to make sure Fence knew where the swords were. 
 	â€œWhat means of persuasion do you suggest?â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œI had thought to come with you,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Laura let out a delighted chortle. Ted started at Fence for a moment. â€œBe warned,â€ he said, â€œthat Laura and I have never been to Australia. We wonâ€™t know how to act, necessarily.â€​par 	â€œHow to act,â€ said Fence, â€œwil be to find those three privily and speak to them so. Where cometh out this path to Australia?â€​par 	â€œI think Patrick said the back forty.â€​par 	Fence looked patient. 
 	â€œItâ€™s on a farm,â€ said Ted, who had only the faintest idea of what a back forty was himself. 
 	â€œWel enough,â€ said Fence. â€œI was born on a farm.â€​par 	Ted and Laura both stared at him. He picked up Ruthâ€™s letter from the table where Randolph had thrown it, and held it out to them. It did not take them long to read it. 
 	Laura admired the style. They handed it back to Fence, and he stood up shaking out the folds of the absurd starry robe he wore. â€œWhat do we stay for?â€​e said. 
 	They left Randolph sitting in the dim room among the glints of polished wood and glass and the muted colors of the tapestries. Laura preferred not to wonder what he was thinking. 
 	At the head of the stairs Fence paused. â€œGarments,â€​par 	he said. He fingered the shoulder of Tedâ€™s shirt, and smiled very faintly. â€œYou never had these from the West Tower,â€ he said. â€œMen go garbed thus in your country?â€​par 	â€œYes,â€​aid Ted, smiling back. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Fence, â€œto the West Tower we must go, al the same, and find somewhat more suited to a farm.â€​par 	
 	The warm, cinnamon-scented air of the West Tower enclosed them comfortingly. Late sunlight blazed in through its nine windows, some gold as it ought to be, and some a violent pink reflection off the outer wal s of High Castle. The room was piled and heaped and hung with clothes, most even less suited to a farm in Australiaâ€”or anywhere elseâ€”than Fenceâ€™s robe. 
 	Fence seemed to know his way about, and quickly found a plain muslin shirt. But they could not locate anything resembling trousers. Ted, appealed to, said firmly that a shirt and hose would be even odder than the starry robe. 
 	Laura remembered suddenly that, if it were June in Il inois, it would be winter in Australia, and that even in the twentieth century some people wore cloaks in winter. Fence received this information dubiously, but said heâ€™d as lief swelter in a cloak as rummage here any further. They found a black cloak for Fence, and a red one for Laura, who remembered Claudia and wished it were any other color, and a green one for Ted, and went down to the stables, where the grooms had looked at them oddly but consented to pack the garments into saddlebags and saddle two horses. 
 	â€œWhy not three?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œLaura can ride with me,â€ said Ted, climbing onto Edwardâ€™s horse. â€œCan you give her a boost?â€​par 	Fence did as he was asked, but looked at Laura once she was safely behind Ted. â€œWherefore this unaccustomed shyness?â€​par 	â€œI hate horses,â€ said Laura, with violence. She hated horses, and Princess Laura loved them, and it was an enormous relief to be able to tel the truth for once. 
 	Fenceâ€™s face closed up like a brand-new paperback. 
 	
 	Maybe, she thought, they should just keep on playing their parts. 
 	The day was cooling into evening as they rode away from High Castle. The distant eastern sky was piled with little round clouds, and above that was an improbable dark blue. 
 	It was too early for stars. Three crows flapped slowly over their heads, and some little bird whistled and piped in the grasses. The huge plain stil gave off its scents of baked grass and dust. Laura felt very odd. Not four hours ago she a n d her brother and their cousins had ridden this way, resolved to give up the Secret Country. It seemed beyond the bounds of reason that now she and Ted were going to Australia with Fence. For the first time since she came to this country, the power and presence of magic, the difference it made in plans and actions, became clear to her. 
 	When they came to the Wel of the White Witch, the western sky was stil spil ing color, but it was dark enough for them to see the Wel â€™s glow. Like those unexpected and disconcerting wal s of High Castle, it was a vivid pink granite. It lit the tal grass around it as if it were a bonfire. 
 	â€œFence!â€ cal ed Ted. â€œWe usual y leave the horses here.â€ He persuaded their own horse to stop. 
 	Laura wondered if the horses they escaped on had managed to get home yet. 
 	Fence had turned his horse back to them and dismounted. He came over and held up his hands for Laura, who slid down and managed to land on her feet. Ted dismounted. â€œOh, hel ,â€ he said. â€œRuth always whispered sorcerous words at the horses.â€​par 	â€œWel , my powers are other,â€ said Fence, â€œbut I have speech enow for that.â€ He laid his hand on the neck of Tedâ€™s horse and said, â€œThou, my steed, may graze thy fil , for I must dismount and walk.â€ He went over to his own horse and repeated it. 
 	Ted and Laura stared at each other in the glow of the wel . 
 	Their mother had sung that song to them. 
 	â€œWhat spel is that, Fence?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œOne of Shanâ€™s,â€ said Fence. He pul ed the three cloaks out of the saddlebags and handed them around. He put his own on, so Ted and Laura fol owed suit. 
 	Fence said, â€œNow lead on.â€​par 	They climbed the bank above the Wel , and went lightly along the wooden bridge over the little stream, and slid and scrabbled along the streamâ€™s edge until the bottle tree bulged out of the darkness at them. 
 	Fence put both hands on its smooth bark and whistled under his breath. â€œI can wel believe,â€ he said, â€œthat where this tree is native, al the seasons are upsodown.â€​par 	Ted rummaged cautiously in the hol ow made by the bottle treeâ€™s many trunks, and drew up Melanieâ€™s sword by its jeweled hilt. It was not glowing. 
 	â€œI am tame,â€ said Fence, as Ted hesitated. 
 	â€œPronounce.â€​par 	â€œWe al need to hold onto the sword,â€ said Ted, â€œand then somehow duck under this mess and come out the other side.â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™re none of us so large as we might be,â€
 	said Fence, cheerful y. â€œDo you lead the way, and weâ€™l set the Lady Laura between us.â€ His voice faltered a little on Lauraâ€™s title, and Laura thought that Fence had almost forgotten that they were not his own royal children. 
 	They arranged themselves as he had said, wound their hands around the hilt of the sword, and ducked awkwardly under the bowed branches of the bottle tree. Then they were squelching over short grass that soaked Lauraâ€™s tennis shoes, and blinking in a gray light, and shivering in a straight, hard wind that whipped her hair back so fast it hurt as if Ted had pul ed it. 
 	Compared to winter in Pennsylvania this was paltry. The grass was stil bright green, almost the color of Melanieâ€™s sword when that weapon chose to display its light; and in this colorless world, the grass seemed to glow itself. The squelchy land rol ed away before them, up and down and up again in a towering slope touched here and there with shapely pale trees. Their bark was peeling off in long strips, as though the wind were tearing them to pieces. 
 	A fence, also shaking in the wind, and rattling a little, ran down the middle of the slope and then bent sharply away from them. 
 	â€œIt isnâ€™t just winter,â€ said Ted, tipping his head up at the gray sky and shaking the hair off his face. 
 	â€œItâ€™s morning.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s tidy,â€ said Fence, a little absently. 
 	â€œHow late do your cousins arise?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know, in the winter,â€ said Ted, and then, catching Lauraâ€™s appal ed glance, â€œOh, hel .â€​par 	 â€œSchool,â€​ said Laura. â€œWhat day is it?â€​par 	â€œBy my reckoning,â€ said Fence, gently, â€œit is the fifth day of September in the four hundred and ninetieth year since King John threw oâ€™er the Dragon King.â€​par 	
 	A red bird flew out of the bottle tree, circled the three of them, whistling, and took off over the hil . Wel , thought Laura, thatâ€™s that. 
 	â€œThatâ€™l fetch them,â€ said Ted, somewhat too smugly. 
 	Fence caught hold of Tedâ€™s cloak. â€œWhat knowest thou?â€​par 	â€œWe keep being rescued by cardinals.â€​par 	Fence let his breath out and shook the fold of the cloak a little. â€œWhat art thou?â€​e said. 
 	â€œAsk Claudia,â€​aid Ted. 
 	A maniacal barking made itself apparent, the persistent yap of a col ie. A black-and-white streak, flapping behind it a long yel ow leash, shot down the hil and halted three feet away from them, growling like a cageful of tigers. Laura stared. Shan was a lazy dog who wouldnâ€™t even run races with you. 
 	Fence stood quite stil , keeping hold of Tedâ€™s cloak. 
 	â€œIs this thy rescue?â€​e said. 
 	â€œItâ€™s just Shan,â€ said Ted. â€œGood dog, Shan, good boy.â€ The dog, a nondescript, sharp-nosed, shaggy creature who had looked much more like a col ie when he was a puppy, wagged his tail and went on growling. Laura supposed he remembered her and Ted, but didnâ€™t care for Fence. 
 	Fence said, â€œThy dogâ€™s cal ed Shan?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s Ruth and El en and Patrickâ€™s dog.â€​par 	â€œThey werenâ€™t al owed to cal him Prospero,â€
 	offered Laura. 
 	
 	Fence turned and stared at her; Shan growled louder and Fence took no notice. â€œProspero?â€​ said Fence. 
 	â€œProspero,â€ said Laura, bravely, â€œis a magician in a play.â€​par 	â€œThy play? Thou hast made him up also?â€​par 	â€œNo, Wil iam Shakespeare did.â€​par 	â€œShan!â€​el ed a distant and familiar voice. 
 	â€œHere they come,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Three figures came over the hil , two short and one tal . 
 	Ruth was not wearing a skirt, as had been her wearisome custom when they played together, but she was, to Lauraâ€™s eyes, very oddly dressed in gray corduroy pants, pink legwarmers already splotched with mud, pink-and-gray running shoes, and many layers of shirts of pink or gray or white whose tails hung out at varying lengths and made her look as if she were wearing a jesterâ€™s costume. Laura thought she ought to tie bel s to al the hems. 
 	Patrick and El en, on her heels, were dressed reassuringly in brand-new jeansâ€”Aunt Kim must have noticed that the old ones were too smal â€”battered red corduroy jackets, and dirty tennis shoes. El en had found, somewhere, a black wool beret like the velvet caps the pages wore in High Castle. Patrick had a blue stocking-cap fal ing out of his jacket pocket. El enâ€™s and Ruthâ€™s cloudy black hair tangled in al directions in the wind. 
 	Patrickâ€™s pale brown, straight hair was only a little ruffled. Al three of them wore bulging knapsacks. 
 	El en caught Lauraâ€™s glance immediately, with a look half of greeting and half of alert bewilderment. Patrick was so expressionless Laura knew he was upset. Ruth looked the way she used to if you burst into her room without knocking when she was writing her journal. 
 	â€œWhat are you doing here?â€ demanded Ruth, stopping next to the dog. Her harried glance brushed Fence, faltered, and settled firmly on Ted. 
 	Patrick got down on his knees in the wet grass and laid an arm across the dogâ€™s back. Shan stopped growling. 
 	El en grinned at Fence, but Patrick did not look at any of them. Laura supposed that seeing Fence in his own back yard was upsetting al Patrickâ€™s theories. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s a fine greeting,â€​aid Ted to Ruth. 
 	â€œWeâ€™re going to miss the school bus.â€​par 	 â€œRuth,â€​ said El en. â€œThey brought Fence. Forget about the school bus.â€​par 	â€œYou have to come back,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œNo way in hel ,â€​aid Patrick, stil without looking up. 
 	â€œThereâ€™s a fine, open spirit,â€ said Fence. Al three of them jumped at the sound of his voice. 
 	â€œFence, is it real y you?â€ said El en, peering at him from under her hat. 
 	â€œTurn that question on thyself,â€ said Fence, rather sharply. 
 	â€œOh, hell,â€​aid Ruth. â€œYou read my letter.â€​par 	â€œWherefore writ, if not to be read?â€​par 	â€œWel , but I didnâ€™t think Iâ€™d see you again.â€​par 	â€œIt sounded fine,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIt sounded stupid, â€ said Ruth. â€œI was in a terrible hurry.â€​par 	
 	terrible hurry.â€​par 	â€œIt was wel enough,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œFence,â€​aid Ruth, â€œIâ€™m sorry.â€​par 	â€œThou hast said so already, in the letter,â€ said Fence, and smiled. â€œBe of good cheer. The faultâ€™s not yours. But in good earnest we desire you back, to play your parts yet for a little while.â€​par 	â€œEl en has now missed her bus,â€ said Patrick, â€œand Ruth and I wil miss ours in ten minutes.â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™d better tel us,â€​aid El en. 
 	It was beginning to rain, but nobody suggested finding shelter. They stood there with misty drops gathering on them while Fence told Ted and Lauraâ€™s story. 
 	â€œGood,â€ said El en, when he had finished. 
 	â€œLetâ€™s do it. I knew it was wrong to leave.â€​par 	â€œGood?â€​aid Ruth. â€œClaudia can look at a piece of glass and make Randolph do what she likes, Claudia did make us do what she liked, and you say good?â€​par 	â€œSo letâ€™s get her,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œYou wonâ€™t make Ted fight Randolph?â€ said Ruth to Fence. 
 	â€œStars in heaven, lady, why should I meddle so?â€​par 	â€œ Randolphâ€™l make Ted fight Randolph,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œIâ€™l strive to prevent him,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œWel , Iâ€™m wil ing to risk it,â€ said Ted. â€œDo remember, canâ€™t you, that the red man said everything we were afraid of would happen if we didnâ€™t go back?â€​par 	
 	â€œIt canâ€™t al happen,â€ said Patrick. â€œYou canâ€™t kil Randolph if you arenâ€™t there.â€​par 	â€œRuthâ€™s letter told Randolph how to get here,â€
 	said Ted. 
 	El en stood up. â€œWel , letâ€™s go,â€​he said. 
 	â€œIâ€™m in the middle of an experiment,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œDoes he have to come?â€ said Ruth to Ted. â€œIf he was missing, wouldnâ€™t that be an excuse to go after Claudia?â€​par 	â€œWe have been after Claudia,â€ said Fence, poking one arm out of his cloak and wiping rain off his forehead. 
 	Laura stared at the shift and glimmer of his starry sleeve, waiting for one of the points of light to swel into vision. 
 	Nothing happened. Fence went on talking, in a tone of wry patience. â€œWe have accusations. Mind you that she tried to stab me on the stairs.â€​par 	â€œBesides,â€ said Laura, â€œwonâ€™t your parents miss you and El en?â€​par 	â€œSure they wil ,â€ said Ruth, grinning maliciously. 
 	â€œPat can explain to them.â€​par 	â€œYou better watch it,â€ said Patrick. â€œOur parents arenâ€™t suspicious, but Ted and Lauraâ€™s are.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s true,â€ said Ruth, sobering at once. 
 	â€œMom just thought weâ€™d grown and she hadnâ€™t noticed until now; sheâ€™s been awful y busy trying to run this blasted farm. And weâ€™d have to dye our hair green and put safety pins through al our finger-joints before Daddy would notice. But your mother cal ed me Mary Rose, and your father cal ed Patrick Thomas the Rhymer.â€​par 	
 	Laura thought that Patrick was about as unlike Thomas the Rhymer as anybody could get, and just managed to turn her laugh into a snort. 
 	â€œIt isnâ€™t funny,â€ said Ruth, undeceived. 
 	â€œ Theyâ€™ve read al the right books. They think weâ€™ve been in Elfland, and thatâ€™s real y not so far off the mark.â€​par 	â€œIt is,â€ said Patrick, in his most annoying voice, â€œabout as far off the mark as you can get. Time stands stil in Elfland and goes along as usual here. By that definition, this is Elfland.â€​par 	â€œWel , it is for Fence,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t think about it,â€ said Ruth, a little wildly, not to Fence but to the rest of them. â€œI just meant Patrickâ€™s right. Theyâ€™re suspicious.â€​par 	â€œThey were joking,â€ said Ted. â€œThey do it al the time.â€​par 	â€œNot just joking,â€​aid Ruth. â€œBelieve me.â€​par 	â€œWel , okay, so itâ€™s al or nothing,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œSo persuade me to come back.â€​par 	â€œPatrick,â€ said El en, â€œyou canâ€™t get anything done while weâ€™re gone anyway, because weâ€™l have to fix the time again.â€​par 	â€œI told you,â€ said Patrick, â€œwe didnâ€™t fix it last time.â€​par 	â€œNo, thatâ€™s right,â€ said Ted. â€œLaura and I left home at night, and when we got back home it was afternoon.â€​par 	Patrick said, â€œWe left here in the daytime, and when we got back it was night. Weâ€™d lost twelve or thirteen hours.â€​par 	â€œWel , thatâ€™s not so bad,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œYouâ€™ve got a remarkably selective memory,â€
 	said Patrick. â€œShal I recite for you what Dad said? And what Mom did?â€​par 	â€œIt doesnâ€™t matter,â€ said Ted. â€œThe red man fixed the time for us, and I bet that holds for the whole planet.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s real y persuasive, Ted,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter with you?â€ said Laura. She had to say something violent to squash her impulse to run over that hil , or in whatever direction was necessary, and find her parents, and forget about adventure and philosophy and riddles. She went on, loudly, â€œSo what if we get in trouble? Isnâ€™t it worth it to save the Secret Country? Why donâ€™t you worry about the rest of this when weâ€™ve done the important stuff?â€​par 	Ted looked at her; he knew what was wrong. â€œWel ?â€​par 	he said to Patrick. â€œWhat is the matter with us?â€​par 	â€œ You are soft in the head,â€ said Patrick. â€œ I am practical. Why should I want to save the Secret Country?â€​par 	Fence stared down at Patrick, who stil knelt with his arm around the dog. â€œConsider it,â€ said Fence, in a light and very terrible voice, â€œthe price of thy fencing lessons and thy room and board these three months.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m not at al convinced,â€ said Patrick, perfectly cool y, â€œthat you roomed and boarded anything except my imagination.â€​par 	
 	Laura felt a shiver go over her skin. When al this was only a game, Patrick had played Fence, and he had used just such a tone and just such a level look from cold blue eyes as he was turning on Fence now. Fence had an altogether less alarming face, but his demeanor made up for it. 
 	â€œThe lunatic, the lover, and the wizard,â€ said Fence, â€œare of imagination al compact. What art thou, then, that setteth the housing of thine so low?â€​par 	â€œJesus Christ!â€ said Patrick, passionately. Nobody reproved 
 	him 
 	for 
 	swearing. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t 
 	quote
 	Shakespeare at me! Al right. Al right. Iâ€™l come back. 
 	But I promise you, I am not leaving again no matter who doesnâ€™t want what to happen until I have figured out what the hell is going on.  Is that clear?â€​par 	â€œAbundantly,â€​aid Ruth, in her dryest tones. 
 	â€œAnd also,â€ said Patrick, â€œI want to test whether time stands stil here while weâ€™re in the Secret Country.â€​par 	â€œOkay,â€ said El en. â€œYou just take off your nice watch and leave it out in the rain, and weâ€™l come back tomorrow and see what time it says.â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s good to two hundred meters,â€ said Patrick, calmly. He unbuckled the strap and laid the watch down in the vivid grass, where it said, in evil red characters, 8:45. 
 	â€œIs it a bargain, then?â€ said Patrick, looking up at Fence. 
 	â€œOh, of a certainty,â€ said Fence, stil in that voice. 
 	â€œFor I most earnestly desire these discoveries also.â€​par 	â€œAl right,â€ said Ted, whom this exchange seemed to have made extremely uneasy. â€œSend Shan home, Patrick, and letâ€™s go.â€ Laura remembered other bargains and their outcomes, and didnâ€™t blame him. He caught her glance, and shrugged resignedly, as their mother would do when their father got sil y. Then he said to Fence, â€œLetâ€™s get out of here.â€​par 	
 CHAPTER 5

 	IT was dark when they got back to High Castle. They had missed supper. Fence spoke to the yel ow-haired boy who was stationed in the stables for just such emergencies, and then hustled them up the two hundred and eight steps to his rooms in the South Tower. Their way was lit by purple torches that made everybody look a little sick. 
 	Fence had added what Patrick would have cal ed security precautions since Ted was last here on Midsummer Eve. 
 	Then Fence had used one plain key. This time he had one plain and two jeweled. He was slow with them, as if he were not yet used to the arrangement. 
 	Ted stood pressed against the cool stone wal with Laura and the others crowding the steps behind him, and considered the door itself. Its dark wood was carved with one of the puzzles of High Castle: eight scenes starting at twelve oâ€™clock and proceeding clockwise to an enigmatic conclusion. They showed a young man with decided eyebrows talking to a wizard. Then, wearing a wizardâ€™s robe himself, he captured or cajoled a cat, a dog, a horse, an eagle, and a unicorn. In the last scene, the unicorn was gone but al the other animals and the man stood looking at an object like a stylized sun. This story was repeated al over High Castle in carving and tapestry and even around the border of Fenceâ€™s dishes. But sometimes it had this ending, with the sun, and other times ended with an irregular patch like a flaw in the piece in question, from which al the animals were running away. 
 	Ted remembered that he was not playing Edward, who had known this story al his life. â€œFence?â€ he said. 
 	â€œWho is that in the carving?â€​par 	Fence pul ed the last key out of the door and pushed it open. A rush of warm air laden with the smel of old ashes and snuffed candles slid past them. 
 	â€œThat,â€ said Fence, leading them into his parlor, â€œis Shan, as you must wel â€”â€​e broke off, and made a sign in the air with his hand. Light, good wholesome yel ow light, bloomed from three lamps on the wal s, and flames crept up under the logs in the fireplace. The fire caught better than it should have; there was no kindling. 
 	â€œSorry,â€​aid Ted to Fence. 
 	â€œI know it,â€​aid Fence. â€œThereâ€™s no help.â€​par 	â€œHe looks like Shan, but our story about him is different.â€​par 	The others surged into the room behind them, unwontedly quiet. Fence stood in the middle of his parlor, on the bearskin, and looked at Ted with a pained expression that verged on the desperate. â€œIs there no end to this?â€ he said. 
 	He ushered them to seats around the table, in the plain dark chairs with their blue cushions, Ruth and El en and Patrick on one side and Ted and Laura on the other. He sat down himself at one end of the table, with his back to the fire and his face to the door. Then he looked them over one by one, with the expression of somebody who is searching in the lost-and-found, among a dozen red mittens, for his own with the frayed right-hand thumb and the chocolate stain on the left cuff. Nobody would look at him except Ted. 
 	â€œSo,â€ said Fence. â€œYouâ€™re very like them. 
 	
 	But the copyist hath erred, here and there.â€​par 	â€œWho is the copyist?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œClaudia,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œNot Claudia alone,â€ said Fence. â€œShe hath too few years, for so much knowledge. That she doth is forbidden, or not yet arrived at in the careful labors of the true wizards. Hath trod a hard path and a long, that would take the road less traveled by.â€​par 	â€œAnd that,â€ said El en, as if she couldnâ€™t help it, â€œhas made al the difference.â€​par 	â€œStop showing off,â€​aid Ruth, sharply. 
 	Fence looked at her quickly. â€œShowing off what?â€​par 	â€œYou sound to us,â€ said Ted, â€œas if youâ€™re quoting poetry half the time. Not just youâ€”not just thou, but al of you.â€​par 	â€œThis thy Wil iam Shakespeare was a poet, then, and I did presently recite from him?â€​par 	â€œYes; but you just recited from Robert Frost,â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œI do not know,â€ said Fence, with considerable emphasis, â€œto read this riddle.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, â€œthatâ€™s the least of our worries.â€​par 	â€œSave that, â€™til it be solved, we bear the mil stone of Prince Patrick,â€ said Fence, quirking the corner of his mouth in the way he had. 
 	â€œNot prince,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œAmend me not,â€ said Fence. â€œThou art the prince to al save me and Randolph, and mayhap some few others â€™twere good to tel â€™t.â€​par 	â€œWhat al ,â€​aid Ted, â€œdo we have to do?â€​par 	â€œTwo matters strictly of the Hidden Land,â€ said Fence, looking to his right at Patrick, who looked blandly back at him but turned rather red, â€œwe must not neglect, for they are pressing: the embassy to the Dragon King; and the messengers to Chryse and Belaparthalion, trying whether, in change for these swords of yours, they wil put some rein on the plunging ambition of that prince.â€​par 	â€œCan you do them without us?â€ said Ted, leaning forward a little to see beyond Lauraâ€™s head, which she had propped on both hands. Nobody seemed likely to care that she had her elbows on the table. â€œBecause what we need to do is to track down Claudia and find out how she found us and brought us here and what the connection between our country and yours real y is.â€​par 	â€œWe also,â€ said Laura, â€œneed to find out who the red man is.â€​par 	â€œAnd we need to get your kids back from the dead,â€
 	said El en, â€œso we can go home again.â€​par 	Fence bit his lip, and then seemed to give up, and grinned. â€œAl our ways may lie together. To discover the red man, â€™twere best to read in the library in Fenceâ€™s Country. And that lies between here and the haunts of Chryse and Belaparthalion. To consult with the dead while being stil alive, some must travel to the Gray Lake. And that lies between here and the realm of the Dragon King.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s easy,â€​aid El en. 
 	
 	â€œToo easy,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œHow so?â€ said Fence. â€œPower and knowledge are two, but as twin compasses are two; one makes no show to move, but doth, if thâ€™ other do.â€​par 	This baffling utterance, with which Fence seemed rather pleased, was accorded a blank silence. Ted realized that he, not Fence, had asked the last pertinent question. He looked at Fence, who appeared expectant. 
 	â€œI would like,â€ said Ted, â€œto get it into everybodyâ€™s head that itâ€™s essential to go on pretending weâ€™re the royal children. Is it true, Fence, that they say, â€˜alk not in the Hidden Land, it wil take al you have and laugh you to scorn for having nothing?â€™â€​par 	â€œTravel not,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œOh, aye,â€ said Fence. â€œThey say so. 
 	Fenceâ€™s Country and the Outer Isles do have a better welcome for strangers; but â€™tis not as strangers that youâ€™l be chastised, if matters run amiss, but as usurpers.â€​par 	â€œUsurpers do away with the rightful claimant,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œBy some accounts, you have done so. If you have power oâ€™er matters in this land, is not Claudia but another of those matters?â€​par 	â€œBut she wasnâ€™t in our game at al ,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Laura. â€œThe night of the Banquet of Midsummer Eve, I asked you, who is that snake lady. And you said you thought I knew her. I didnâ€™t.â€ Fence regarded her steadily, and she added, â€œWe didnâ€™t like her, either.â€​par 	
 	â€œChild,â€ said Fence, â€œfret not on me. But there are others wil say, on the heels of such dissembling as the five of you have performed this summer, what is that, or any tale of thy ignorance, save another instance ofâ€™t?â€​par 	Laura put her head down and stuck the end of one braid into her mouth. Fence turned his innocent gaze upon Ruth, who was scowling, and said, â€œMy lady, thou in especial art endangered.â€​par 	â€œDonâ€™t I know it!â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œCanst thou then think of putting off thy duties for a while?â€​par 	â€œWell, I donâ€™t mind,â€ said Ruth. â€œMy duties would make it hard for me to go anywhere. But is it fair to Lady Ruth?â€​par 	â€œIf Lady Ruth should walk again where fair or unfair concerns her, Iâ€™l see to her reinstatement,â€ said Fence. 
 	Ruth made a face. â€œNow I just have to manage Meredith.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l speak to her,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œThank you.â€​par 	â€œDo we want to get cut off from the Green Caves like that?â€ said Patrick. â€œIf the cardinals are minions of the Green Caves, and the Green Caves people are stingy about sharing their knowledgeâ€”â€ He looked at Fence, who nodded. â€œWel , then, unless Ruth is one of them, we may not have much chance of solving that part of the mystery.â€​par 	Ruth said, â€œI donâ€™t have to resign immediately. â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™l doâ€™t when the time is right,â€ said Fence. 
 	There was another silence, broken by the sound of footsteps and breathing and a thump on the door as of somebody kicking it. Fence got up and unlocked it, and let in Randolph and the yel ow-haired page, both carrying trays and panting. They set the trays at the end of the table. The boy started to fil mugs from a large jug, and Randolph said, â€œI thank thee, Iâ€™l do the rest.â€ The page gave him a startled look and left. 
 	Randolph poured for al of them, with extreme care. It occurred to Ted that he wanted to defer the moment of greeting. Ted looked at Ruth, who was staring at the table; at El en, who was trying to catch Randolphâ€™s eye because she was genuinely glad to see him; at Patrick, who was gazing fixedly at Randolph as Shan had stared at Fence. Ted didnâ€™t blame Randolph for stal ing. 
 	Randolph final y sat down at the other end of the table, with Laura on his right and Ruth on his left, his back to the door. He raised his mug. â€œTo deception,â€ he said, â€œand to its confounding.â€ He drank without offering to click mugs with anybody. The rest of them drank too. It was the Secret Countryâ€™s version of lemonade, too ful of cinnamon and nutmeg for Tedâ€™s taste. 
 	Fence put his mug down and said, looking hard at Randolph, â€œIn your true guises, you are al welcome to High Castle.â€​par 	Randolph sat without responding. His hair and the dark blue of his clothes swal owed the lamplight; only his eyes, greener than Fenceâ€™s, the green of Ruthâ€™s or El enâ€™s, gleamed a little, and the golden contents of his goblet as he turned it between his palms. Ted suddenly realized that Randolph was wearing no jewelry. It had al been connected with his study of magic, and he was no longer Fenceâ€™s apprentice. Randolph final y said, in a much quieter voice than Ted was used to from him, â€œWhat others must we doom to this conspiracy?â€​par 	Down the length of the gleaming table, over the plates of meat pies and cheese pies and spinach pies, over the bowls of grapes and peaches and the little hard yel ow apples of the Hidden Land, Fenceâ€™s eyes met Randolphâ€™s and held them. â€œBenjamin,â€​e said. 
 	And Randolph flinched. His voice was perfectly even. 
 	â€œHave we not broke sorrow enow to him to last a lifetime, without this burden also?â€​par 	â€œConsider his lifetime,â€ said Fence. â€œIâ€™l tel him; donâ€™t trouble yourself. Who besides?â€​par 	â€œIf thereâ€™s a learned pane in this window we piece together,â€ said Randolph, â€œ â€™twere best have Matthew.â€​par 	â€œThat is to have Celia also,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Randolph nodded. 
 	â€œWhat about Agatha?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œThey were very dear to her,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œShe doesnâ€™t act like it!â€ said El en, in astonished tones. 
 	Fence looked at her briefly, but did not answer. Randolph, Ted realized, was acting as if he were having a private conference with Fence, and did not want to acknowledge the remarks of the five of them. Ted couldnâ€™t blame him, but that did not make this treatment easier to take. 
 	
 	â€œAgathaâ€™s so hard to fool, you see,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œYou need deceive her a bare sennight,â€ said Fence. â€œWe must away.â€​par 	â€œWel , okay, then,â€​aid Laura. 
 	Ted removed his startled gaze from his sister; nobody had asked her opinion, and it was usual y hard enough to get it out of her when she was asked. He addressed Fence, who was stil looking at Randolph, and rather as a nearsighted person wil look at the chart in the eye doctorâ€™s office. â€œCan we manage with so few?â€
 	said Ted. 
 	â€œI do believe it,â€ said Fence, without moving. â€œIf Randolph can sift the riddles of the Gray Lake, Matthew and I shal do what we may with the Library of Heathwil .â€​par 	â€œWho do we go with?â€​sked El en. 
 	â€œI fear me you must be separate,â€​aid Fence. 
 	There was a chil y silence. 
 	â€œWel , who gets to decide?â€​aid El en. 
 	Fence said to Randolph, â€œWhich wilt thou have?â€​par 	Ted was reminded of choosing sides for gym class, and hoped absurdly that Laura would not be the last one picked. 
 	For the first time since he had entered the room, Randolph looked at the five of them, one by one. His face was judicious. Patrick scowled at him, and he did not react. 
 	El en grinned, and he raised an eyebrow at her. Ruth lifted her chin and returned a good imitation of the judicious expression. Ted, when his turn came, tried to look reliable. 
 	Randolphâ€™s gaze lingered on him. 
 	â€œAre you right-handed?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	
 	â€œYes, my lord.â€ Ted remembered with uncomfortable vividness their first fencing lesson. Randolph, however, who must have had it in mind also, looked vaguely satisfied, though there was no warmth behind it. 
 	â€œFor an embassy to the Dragon King,â€ said Randolph, â€œâ€™twere best have our own King.â€​par 	Ted did not think this a good plan to ensure that he didnâ€™t kil Randolph, but Randolph was right; if they were going to continue this masquerade, the King belonged with the embassy wherein courtesy and preserving the forms mattered most. He doubted that Belaparthalion or Chryse would be half so impressed by the King of the Hidden Land as they would be by Fence. 
 	â€œTrue enough,â€ said Fence. He turned his head to Laura. â€œI think I must have thee,â€ he said. â€œIn the sorcerous library, we may find news of thy talent. 
 	Randolph?â€​par 	â€œLady Ruth,â€ said Randolph, in rather an odd voice, â€œyou have spoken once with the Judge of the Dead; wil you so again?â€​par 	â€œAn it please you, my lord,â€ said Ruth, in an equal y odd voice, â€œI wil .â€​par 	They had spoken with the Judge of the Dead in order to return Ted himself to life. Ted wondered what had happened then that remembering it now should make them sound so strange. The memory made him feel odd too, but he was the one who had died. 
 	â€œWel , what about the rest of us?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œA moment,â€ said Fence. â€œWhen entered you this country?â€​par 	
 	â€œWe came in the first week of June,â€ said Patrick, â€œbut we didnâ€™t do anything except wander around the Wel of the White Witch until Ted and Laura showed up, on the fourteenth. Benjamin came looking for the real kids, and found us.â€​par 	â€œSo she did it then,â€ said Randolph, â€œand al our dealings thereafter were with you five.â€​par 	They al nodded. 
 	â€œWhat,â€​aid El en, â€œabout the rest of us?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l take you,â€ said Fence, smiling. He was probably relieved to be able to change the subject. 
 	â€œFenceâ€™s Country wil like you greatly.â€​par 	â€œIs that where youâ€™re from, Fence?â€​aid Laura. 
 	Fence went on smiling, but Randolphâ€™s face grew utterly blank, and then he pushed the stil -ful goblet away from him until it clinked against the nearest platter. Fence said placidly to Laura, â€œNay, I am but named for him that gaveâ€™s name to the country. I come from the Outer Isles.â€​par 	Randolph stood up. â€œI cry you mercy,â€ he said to Fence. â€œI have yet some business that awaiteth me.â€​par 	â€œThis wonâ€™t serve,â€ said Fence, with no particular emphasis. 
 	Randolph leaned the heels of his hands on the table and said, â€œI do beg you, then, hold to the affair we are bent on and start not aside for these trivialities.â€​par 	â€œAny knowledge,â€ said Fence, â€œis armor â€™gainst their discovery.â€​par 	Randolph sat down again. It turned out that more planning must wait until Benjamin, Matthew, and Celia had been informed of what was going on; and until Andrew had been told that the King would be joining his party. Ted thought that this might cause trouble, but he meant to let Fence worry about it. For al the discussion they got done, Fence might as wel have let Randolph leave; unless he had meant not to continue the discussion, but to make Randolph eat with the five imposters. 
 	Which was probably in theory the right thing to do; but nobody had much of an appetite. 
 	
 CHAPTER 6

 	LAURA lay in the breezy darkness of the room she shared with El en, under linen sheets and silk quilts and, square on her chest, the hot, solid weight of the black cat, which had decided suddenly after months of ignoring them that El en and Laura were the only people it could stand to look at. 
 	She was not exactly asleep, or exactly awake. A blue wash of moonlight swept in the unglazed window, struck the silver pitcher that sat on their dressing table, and fel muted into her face. She wished El en snored. She wished for a thunderstorm. She was afraid of what she would see if she dozed, and terrified of what she would dream if she slept. 
 	She was not the Princess Laura and she had never even laid eyes on the Princess Lauraâ€™s mother; but Fence had told her that the visions she saw and the oddities she dreamed of were a legacy of that motherâ€™s family. She did not mind playing Princess Laura, but she minded this. 
 	El en did not snore, and the night was clear. The moonlight fixed her with its glittering eye, and she saw what she was meant to. The evergreen trees of the forest were enormous; their branches began yards above her head. 
 	Between their widely separated trunks were only piles and heaps of discarded brown needles, and fal en branches, and an occasional seedling, growing hopeful y upward. The air was very cold and smel ed damply of pine and cedar. 
 	There was also a fainter smel that Laura associated with Christmas. Blue spruce. Laura was confused by this sudden col ision of her memories and Princess Lauraâ€™s. It was she who remembered Christmas, but Princess Laura who knew that that smel meant blue spruce. 
 	
 	â€œDeck the hal s with boughs of hol y!â€ shouted Laura, afraid that Princess Laura would move her to say something peculiar. 
 	Her voice was frail and faint in this vastness of air and branch. Very high up, a sharp wind drove long clouds across a thin blue sky. She could hear crows quarreling. 
 	Laura was cold and puzzled, and beginning to be bored. 
 	She listened to the inside of her mind, but nothing unusual was there. Princess Laura wasnâ€™t going to be any help. 
 	Laura hunched her shoulders against an eddy of wind, and realized she was wearing a pack. She shrugged it off and knelt gingerly in the needles to open it. It was made of green nylon, and the tag said â€œCaribou.â€ Inside it were a squashed apple, a little ivory unicorn with green eyes, a pocket-sized copy of Peter Rabbit, with the original il ustrations, and a silver flute that made her tentative hand shiver as if it were fal ing asleep. She had felt it before. This was the flute of Cedric. 
 	Laura stared at this col ection for some time. The unicorn was hers, a present from Fence. The food might have been anybodyâ€™s. She opened the little book, and encountered El enâ€™s determined black script on the flyleaf. â€œEX
 	LIBRIS ELLEN JENNIFER CARROLL. THIS MEANS
 	YOU.â€​par 	The flute was Lauraâ€™s too. Somebody who had seemed to know what he was doing had given it to her, when Princess Laura was already dead. Fence said there was a saying that Cedricâ€™s flute would save them at the end. Ruth, who had had flute lessons for eight years, couldnâ€™t get a single decent note out of this flute. Laura, who couldnâ€™t even play the piano, let alone coordinate her breath and her fingers at the same time, could play this flute to perfection. 
 	She supposed she might as wel play it now. It was very cold to the touch. She put it to her lips and blew a few experimental breaths. She played â€œThe Minstrel Boy,â€
 	which had once summoned her a unicorn. This time it summoned nothing. She played â€œSir Patrick Spens,â€
 	which had pricked Randolphâ€™s conscience. Only her cold fingers tingled where she held the flute. She played â€œMatty Groves,â€ which she did not like. Whatever she hoped to wake up did not care for it either. 
 	â€œYou could at least let al the wild animals come and listen and be tamed,â€ said Laura, removing the flute from her mouth and addressing it severely. She gave up on Secret Country songs and, defiantly, played â€œJames James Morrison Morrison.â€​par 	She was playing the last line when the tree nearest her burst violently into flame. A rush of hot air drove her backward. Laura considered running, but saw that neither nearby trees nor the needles at the foot of the burning one had caught. The flame was very clear and yel ow. Laura looked at it hopeful y; but the tears ran down her face from the heat and the brightness. She blinked them away, and when she opened her eyes again she was staring into a shaft of moonlight, and the cat had jumped down from the bed. 
 	Â 
 	Ted and Patrick got up in the morning and found a note from Fence stuck to the inside of their heavy wooden door by no agency that they could discover. It peeled off neatly. It was folded in three and sealed with a blob of blue wax on which there was no imprint of a seal. Fenceâ€™s handwriting was round and earnest, like his face. 
 	His sentences were more brisk and businesslike, and required Ted and Patrick to meet him after breakfast in the Council Room. This gave Ted an uncomfortable sensation in the stomach; but Fence had added a line at the bottom of the page to say that he would already have apprised Benjamin, Matthew, and Celia of Ted and Patrickâ€™s true nature. Ted felt better, until Patrick said, â€œWhat do you suppose he thinks our true nature is?â€​par 	â€œThanks a lot,â€ said Ted. Patrick just stood there on the stone floor in his white nightshirt, with his pale brown hair sticking up, and grinned at him. 
 	â€œWhat are you so pleased about?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIâ€™m just looking forward,â€ said Patrick, serenely, â€œto being myself once in a while.â€​par 	â€œWe agreed that we need to keep up the masquerade.â€​par 	â€œBut not with anybody who knows.â€​par 	â€œPat, come on, weâ€™re only here on sufferance.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s right,â€​aid Patrick. â€œMine.â€​par 	Ted said, in as close an imitation as he could come to Benjaminâ€™s abrupt tones, â€œPride goeth before a fal .â€​par 	Patrick regarded him with the intent, blue, merciless stare he had used when he played Fence. Ted had never thought to ask him what he thought of the harmless-looking, untidy, abstracted reality that was High Castleâ€™s resident wizard. He did not ask him now. â€œLetâ€™s get dressed.â€​par 	
 	â€œI hoped,â€ said Patrick, crossing the huge room to the six oak chests lined up against the wal , â€œthat Iâ€™d never have to wear those damn stockings again.â€​par 	â€œDonâ€™t we have any robes, like Fence and Benjamin wear?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t want one like Fenceâ€™s,â€ said Patrick, rummaging. â€œI donâ€™t want one at al . 
 	Theyâ€™re probably as hot as the hose.â€​par 	â€œWel , itâ€™s fal now. The hose wonâ€™t be so hot.â€​par 	Patrick looked over his shoulder, his hands ful of embroidered silk, his face holding its most distant calculating expression. â€œItâ€™s fal ,â€ he said, â€œand itâ€™s a hel of a lot warmer in here in the morning than it was al summer.â€​par 	â€œMaybe we burned Claudia up with her house,â€ said Ted, savagely. 
 	â€œI hope not,â€ said Patrick. â€œWhat if the only way to find out whatâ€™s going on is to ask her?â€​par 	â€œNo problem,â€ said Ted, stil savagely. â€œYou just go to the land of the dead.â€​par 	Patrick hauled the nightshirt over his head, flung it into the middle of their bearskin rug, and disappeared into the violet folds of the silk shirt, stil with the calculating expression. He had lost track of what he was holding; he would never have put that shirt on if he had looked at it first. Ted put on one of the linen shirts Patrick had strewn on the floor. 
 	â€œAnd ask her?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œThe ghosts donâ€™t remember, unless you nudge them.â€​par 	â€œThe sight of you ought to nudge her al right,â€ said Patrick, crossing the room and picking his jeans up out of the rocking chair. There was something strange in his tone. 
 	After a moment Ted recognized it as admiration. Admiration from Patrick was rare, and, just now, unnerving. 
 	â€œWhenâ€™s the council?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œEleven. We should go now.â€​par 	â€œOh, Lord,â€ said Patrick, standing up abruptly. â€œI have to go check my watch.â€​par 	Wel , thought Ted, Patrick would have to get the sword from Fence, who would say something to keep him in line. 
 	Ted waved him cheerily on his way and ran down to the Council Room. Randolph was there already, with the three girls. Ruth was wearing the sort of white flowing dress she had always worn in this country. El en and Laura had apparently, like Patrick, suffered a rebel ion against the garments of the Hidden Land; they had put on their boysâ€™ clothes from the battle. 
 	Randolph was wearing blue as usual, although he was no longer of the school of Blue Sorcery. In the late morning light he looked, if not al right, at least better than he had. The table in front of him was piled with books and scrol s and maps. Most of them were dusty. Ted was nerving himself to ask what they were for when Celia and Matthew came in, also piled with books and scrol s. Matthew, a long, thin young man with red hair and a sardonic eye, looked at the children with an expression of uneasy reproach and said nothing. Celia moved briskly past him, dumped her burden on the table, and smiled. She was tal er than Matthew; she had sleek yel ow hair braided down her back, and pale eyes that might have been blue or green or gray, and a long, puckered scar on her forehead. 
 	â€œGive you good morrow,â€ she said. â€œI am Celia, cal ed Lady for my service to the last Queen; but in this company we dispense with sugary courtesy. Matthew is my husband, and the three yel ow bees youâ€™ve marked buzzing hither and yon making an upset are my children.â€​par 	There was a muddled silence. Ted col ected himself and said, â€œThank you. You know our names and we donâ€™t have any sugary titles. Laura is my sister. Ruth and El en are my cousins. The Patrick with the superior smirk who isnâ€™t here is their brother.â€​par 	Celia said, â€œYou are welcome to High Castle.â€​par 	â€œI doubt it,â€ said Ruth. â€œBut itâ€™s kind of you to say so.â€​par 	Matthew grinned; Randolph actual y looked at Ruth as if he were seeing her; Celia made a disapproving frown and then smiled too. â€œSo,â€ she said. â€œLet plain speaking be the order of the day.â€​par 	There was another silence, less uncomfortable, broken by the arrival of Fence, who sat down in the chair to the left of the one that had been King Wil iamâ€™s. Celia and Matthew sat down too, and Ted gathered his courage and sat in the Kingâ€™s chair. 
 	â€œWhereâ€™s Benjamin?â€ said El en. Ted knew that she was, as always, enjoying herself. He and Ruth and Laura, because they were not, would never have asked Fence that question. 
 	â€œRecovering himself,â€ said Fence, sitting down and exchanging some look with Matthew. 
 	
 	â€œIs he terribly grieved?â€ said El en. She didnâ€™t sound eager, but like somebody dispassionately in search of information. 
 	â€œHe is so,â€ said Fence. â€œMore to thy purpose, he is wroth. A saith, if a should lay eyes on one of you before the day is out, a wil break that one between his two hands.â€​par 	El en sat back abruptly. â€œWe didnâ€™t do anything.â€​par 	â€œYou cozened and deceived him, and al of us; if there was a necessity inâ€™t, yet thou shouldst give Benjamin some little time to see it clearly.â€​par 	â€œCan we have a council without Benjamin?â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œWel enough,â€ said Fence. â€œHe hath told me his desires; and given leave for al of you to accompany what embassies we have chosen for you.â€​par 	â€œWel , good.â€ Ted decided that this time he would out-wait Fence. Fence had cal ed this council. 
 	Fence said, â€œI have spoken also to Andrew. Iâ€™d thought to have some smal difficulty in the persuasion, but he seemed wel pleased to have thee, my prince, and Randolph also, in his train. So have a care.â€​par 	He looked at Ted until Ted nodded, and then looked at Randolph until Randolph put his head back and said to the ceiling, â€œFear me not.â€​par 	Ted remembered, suddenly and unpleasantly, that there was another secret here they had not spoken of. Only the five children, Randolph, and Fence knew that Randolph had kil ed the King. Andrew suspected it, but had seemed unwil ing to enter any accusation because of some plot of his, or of his sister Claudia, that he did not want to cal attention to. Matthew and the other members of the Kingâ€™s Council had al the information they needed to discover Randolphâ€™s crime, but they had not discovered it yet. 
 	â€œHow,â€ said Ruth, rather diffidently, â€œdid Andrew like the notion of having me along?â€​par 	â€œThat pleased him also,â€ said Fence, â€œthat thou, and Randolph and Ted, that he thinks are both besotted on thee, should be made to travel al together and endure one anotherâ€™s company.â€​par 	â€œDo we have to keep up that masquerade?â€
 	demanded Ruth. 
 	â€œIn smal things only,â€ said Fence. â€œA hasty withdrawing on thy part, or a gaingiving in thy look, those wil serve.â€​par 	â€œI can hardly wait,â€​aid Ruth, gloomily. 
 	Ted could not look at Randolph, who had been betrothed to a girl he now knew was dead; and who had, when the present Ruth appeared, been treating Lady Ruth with distant courtesy and dancing every dance at the Banquet of Midsummer Eve with Claudia. Then Claudia tried to kil Fence, and Randolph avoided both her and Ruth. On the journey back from the battle, Randolph began, cautiously, treating Ruth as an affianced bride who had reason to be angry with him. Ted thought that Randolph hoped that Lady Ruth, who unlike their own Ruth had great pride and a hasty temper, would refuse to take him back after his dal ying with Claudia. Randolph had told Ted that he did not, as a regicide shortly to be so proclaimed before the court, wish to encourage anybody to marry him. Ruth had been driven almost to distraction by this state of affairs. At least now both of them would be playing a part. 
 	â€œAndrew,â€ said Fence, having considered Ruth and apparently decided not to comment on her remark, â€œdoth require that those accompanying him be prepared to depart four days hence.â€​par 	â€œOh, good,â€ said Ruth. â€œThereâ€™s an enormous Green Caves ceremony six days hence.â€​par 	Fence frowned. â€œâ€™Twere better not delay our speech to Meredith,â€ he said. â€œSheâ€™l need one can take thy place.â€​par 	â€œGive me today to poke around,â€ said Ruth, â€œand then you can tel her Iâ€™m resigning. Iâ€™m stil in disgrace, you know, so the place sheâ€™l have to fil wonâ€™t be very exalted.â€​par 	Fence nodded. â€œWel ,â€ he said. â€œMatthew and I wil also make ready to depart four days hence. We must devise some means of exchanging news.â€ His glance brushed Randolph and moved to Ruth. â€œWhat training hast thou?â€ he said to her. â€œCanst read a message in the grasses, or the stones along thy way?â€​par 	â€œOf a certainty I cannot,â€ said Ruth; she did not sound sorry. 
 	â€œNo matter,â€ said Fence. â€œWe wil send by music. Laura, wilt thou bring thy flute?â€​par 	â€œYes,â€ said Laura, staring a little but seeming more pleased than otherwise. 
 	â€œDost thou play also?â€​aid Fence to Ruth. 
 	â€œPretty wel ,â€​aid Ruth. â€œOn an ordinary flute.â€​par 	
 	â€œExcel ent,â€ said Fence. â€œCelia, who goes north with us, wil aid Laura, and before we depart also wil instruct thee.â€​par 	â€œOn the subject of instruction,â€ said Celia, â€œwe have brought somewhat. Edward, hand thy lady cousin the undermost book. â€™Twere best she read it before the Green Caves are barred to her. Thou and Patrick wil profit most from the scrol s and the blue books.â€​par 	Ted slid the dusty volume from his stack and handed it down the table to Ruth. Its dark green cover was stamped in silver: The Book of the Seven Wizards.  It sounded like something they would al have enjoyed reading, before they got into this mess. 
 	â€œNow,â€ said Fence. â€œIf aughtâ€™s unclear to our visitors, let them ask us not to unmuddy them. And if aughtâ€™s unclear to you, Randolph, Celia, Matthew, ask now.â€​par 	Al of Tedâ€™s relatives looked alarmed. He could at least postpone the inevitable. â€œCan you tel us,â€ he said, â€œthe story of Shan?â€​par 	â€œâ€™Tis in the thicker blue book,â€​aid Celia. 
 	So much for that. 
 	â€œCan you tel us,â€ said Celia, â€œof Andrew? This report of his spying mislikes me. What, as such, did he accomplish?â€​par 	â€œNothing,â€ said El en. â€œHe was always thwarted.â€​par 	â€œWas he so foolish, then?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said El en, â€œbut he was wrong.  He didnâ€™t believe in magic.â€​par 	â€œWhich was a considerable handicap,â€ said Ruth dryly. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Matthew. â€œThe antidote is hereby explained.â€​par 	Celia said, â€œBut how knew he one would kil the King?â€​par 	â€œAnd who did so?â€​aid Matthew, gloomily. 
 	Celia turned back to El en. â€œWhat hath Andrew yet to do?â€​par 	â€œNothing, I think,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œHe betrayeth not this embassy?â€​par 	â€œWe donâ€™t know,â€ said El en. â€œThe embassy wasnâ€™t in the game.â€​par 	â€œHow not?â€​par 	Ted said quickly, â€œWe ran out of time. It was September by then, and we had to go back to school.â€ It seemed to be the outsidersâ€™ turn again, so he said, â€œWhat about Lauraâ€™s visions? They canâ€™t real y be a talent of her motherâ€™s house.â€​par 	â€œ Did Princess Laura have visions?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œShe had dreams that would have grown so,â€ said Celia, â€œbut was too young for visions.â€ She looked intently at Laura. â€œWhat age hast thou?â€​par 	â€œEleven,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œThe Lady Laura was but nine,â€​aid Celia. 
 	Celia and Matthew looked at one another. Nobody said anything. Ted thought what a strain this must be for al of them, confronted with the lying doubles of children they knew in their minds, but surely not yet in their hearts, to be dead, and to have been dead for three months. Ted remembered Lauraâ€™s vision, that Claudia had buried the bodies in the cel ar of the Secret House. But keep the wolf far thence, thatâ€™s foe to men,  he thought, for with his nails heâ€™ll dig them up again. 
 	Ted made a sharp movement, as if he had found a spider walking up his arm, and both Fence and Celia turned inquiring faces his way. â€œFence,â€​e said, â€œEdward says to keep the wolf far thence, thatâ€™s foe to men, for with his nails heâ€™l dig them up again.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s another spel of Shanâ€™s,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œBut whyâ€™s it in the back of my head? Are Lauraâ€™s visions another manifestation of it?â€​par 	â€œHave al of you this affliction? Hath Patrick?â€​par 	â€œOh, yes,â€ said Ted. â€œBut itâ€™s not words, with him. Itâ€™s muscle memory. Al the prestidigitation.â€​par 	â€œBut not the bladework?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œNo. And Laura has the visions, but she canâ€™t ride a horse.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t have much,â€ said El en. â€œThe name of a flower, or knowing that the pies have bones in them.â€​par 	â€œThe devising of Melanie,â€ said Fence, â€œwas that some dear to her, whom Shan had kil ed, should speak to his lightest thought, as do the unicorns in the places of their abiding.â€​par 	â€œWhatâ€™s Melanie got against us?â€​aid El en. 
 	
 	â€œCould Claudia have learned it from her?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œOr from another,â€ said Fence. â€œOr it may be that, being so like your others, wearing their clothes, sleeping in their beds, answering to their names and observing al their ways with the very comment of your souls, that you be not found out, you are like enough to them that you hear them speaking. For sorcery makes nothing happen that may not happen left alone. It can turn a trickle to a sea; but there must first be a trickle.â€​par 	â€œYour turn,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œIn your game,â€ said Celia, â€œwho did murder King Wil iam?â€​par 	Tedâ€™s whole interior recoiled like a snapped rubber band. Fence was actual y managing to give Celia an admiring glance, as if to say he should have thought of that question himself. Randolph was extremely pale, but that wasnâ€™t much of a change. El en looked thoroughly shocked, which would be good for her. Laura appeared to be going to say something, and Laura was not good at improvising. 
 	â€œIt depended,â€ said Ted. This was just short of a lie; in the early days of the game, it had depended. 
 	â€œSometimes,â€ said Ted, â€œit was Andrew; sometimes it was an evil castle magician that we got rid of later; and sometimes, when we got tired of the obvious, it was Randolph; and once it was Agatha, andâ€”â€​par 	â€œNo profit there,â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œWel thought,â€​aid Randolph, to the tabletop. 
 	â€œ Our turn,â€ said El en, quickly. â€œWhy didnâ€™t breaking the Crystal ofâ€”â€​par 	
 	â€œWhat do you know about Claudiaâ€™s sorcery with the windows?â€ Ted overrode her loudly. It was, of course, too late. When people in the Hidden Land heard â€œbreaking the Crystal,â€ there was only one interpretation they would give it. 
 	â€œEdward,â€ said Fence, in a less terrible voice than Ted had expected. â€œTel the tale.â€​par 	Ted felt put upon; why should he have to guess Patrickâ€™s motives or, where he knew them, decide whether to betray them? But he told the story. The Crystal of Earth was no part of their original game, but Patrick had dreamed about it: a globe like a gigantic snowflake paperweight, which had a magic in it that, let loose, would destroy the Secret Country. Fence had confirmed this, more or less, by listing for them the three things that were dangerous to the Hidden Land: the Border Magic, the Crystal of Earth, the Whim of the Dragon. So on Midsummerâ€™s Day, Patrick, infuriated by Fenceâ€™s taking from them the swords of Shan and Melanie, their only way home from this country, had decided that he would break the Crystal and set them al free. Ted had fol owed him to the North Tower, protesting. Patrick had broken the Crystal. And for the barest moment, they had seen home. 
 	Then they were back in a Secret Country none the worse for this wavering. They gathered al the colored fragments up and hid them in Ruthâ€™s room. 
 	Ted looked over at Fenceâ€™s intent face, and said, â€œThereâ€™s an awful lot Ruth didnâ€™t think to tel you in that letter!â€​par 	â€œWel , she was hard-pressed,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	Fence said nothing, but only waited. Ted would have felt better if he had been angry. None of them looked angry. He supposed they were waiting for Patrick. 
 	â€œAl right,â€ said Ted. â€œI noticed, during the Unicorn Hunt, that the ground in the Enchanted Forest sometimes feels like the magic swordsâ€”thereâ€™s that tingling. So I thought we should try standing there and changing things around, the way we used to do in the game. 
 	So I tried it, saying that Patrick and I had never practiced with the magical swords, and therefore you and Randolph took them not. And that didnâ€™t work. But Laura said, â€˜etâ€™s say Prince Patrick broke not the Crystal of Earth.â€™ And she felt the ground tingle. So we went back to Ruthâ€™s room and looked in the towel; and al the fragments were gone. We went to the North Tower, and there was a floating globe, much larger than the one Patrick broke, and having inside it sparkles of al colors, but giving off a deep gold light like nothing I have seen. And that,â€
 	said Ted on the last of his breath, â€œis the tale of the Crystal of Earth.â€​par 	â€œWhat appearance had the Forest, when this was done?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œVery different from during the Hunt,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œThe hedge of roses had grown wild, and the stream was much deeper.â€​par 	â€œBut there were roses?â€ said Celia. â€œThat was the true power of the unicorns, then, and not some meddling of Claudiaâ€™s.â€​par 	â€œOkay, but why was what Patrick broke not the Crystal of Earth?â€ Even as he said the last few words, Ted realized what the answer was. â€œBecause we were going to stand in the Enchanted Forest and say, â€˜etâ€™s say Patrick broke not the Crystal of Earth,â€™ the Crystal of Earth wasnâ€™t there for Patrick to break?â€​par 	â€œWhat did he break?â€ said Laura. â€œ Something happened when he did it.â€​par 	â€œNow that may be some meddling of Claudiaâ€™s,â€​par 	said Celia. 
 	Somebody rattled the door. Matthew got up and let Patrick in. Patrick was flushed, and his eyes gleamed. Ted realized that he was excited, not tired. The things that got Patrick excited were always either incomprehensible or troublesome. 
 	â€œDid it work?â€ said El en. â€œWhereâ€™s your watch?â€​par 	â€œIt worked,â€ said Patrick. â€œWhen I got back there, the watch said it was eight forty-five on June seventeenth. Thatâ€™s when we left. But thatâ€™s not the half of it.â€ Patrick shouldered himself out of his knapsack, opened it, and began piling books on top of those already on the table. 
 	â€œNow,â€ he said. â€œThese books are about a lot of things that must be just as impossible here as digital watches. This used to be my digital watch.â€ He pushed back the violet silk sleeve of his shirt, thick with embroidery in black and white, and showed them the watch he wore. It had a plain leather strap, a round crystal, and the usual twelve numbers picked out in gold. The hour and minute hands were gold too. 
 	Laura remembered the serviceable black plastic watch with al its baffling buttons and its red characters in twenty-four-hour time that would show you the date and the day of the week if you knew how to ask it, and was safe underwater to two hundred meters. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s your watch?â€​he said. 
 	â€œYou bet it is. This happened once before, remember? And I think you must have been right, Laurie. 
 	Your flashlight did turn into a lantern. Now, just what happened when it did?â€​par 	Laura looked at Fence, who nodded at her. Ted decided that they were letting Patrick dig his own grave, and then they would push him into it. 
 	â€œIt stayed a flashlight,â€ Laura said, â€œuntil Ted tried to turn it on. Then there was a flash of blue light. Ted dropped it in the stream. There were a lot of sparks, and then the blue light went out. And al we found in the stream was a lantern.â€​par 	â€œI got a green flash from the watch. Now.â€ Patrick lined the books up on the table. The Handbook of Chemistry and Physics, Elements of Programming Style, The Communist Manifesto, An Outline of Intellectual Rubbish, and a science fiction novel cal ed Inherit the Stars.  â€œI went through these and marked passages contrary to the way reality works in the Secret Country,â€
 	said Patrick. â€œAnd they are al stil here. Nothing whatever has happened to these books. Whatever makes these things happen alters artifacts, but it leaves books alone.â€​par 	â€œTouching the alteration of artifacts,â€ said Celia. 
 	â€œWhat is this tale we hear of the Crystal of Earth?â€​par 	â€œWho told you?â€ said Patrick, in a dangerous tone. 
 	His face had not changed. 
 	â€œNever mind,â€ said Fence, to Lauraâ€™s profound relief. El en would feel bad enough without Patrickâ€™s hol ering at her. 
 	Matthew said, â€œWhy broke you that Crystal, knowing what fate you doomed us to?â€​par 	â€œI wanted to go home,â€ said Patrick, pale but stil calm. 
 	â€œPatrick,â€ said Fence, â€œthere must be no more of these trials and testings, neither out of temper nor out of thy cooler speculations. Thou knowest nothing; thy proddings are perilous. Have I thy word?â€​par 	Patrickâ€™s calm face moved swiftly into stubbornness. 
 	He said, â€œI prefer example to authority.â€​par 	Randolph stood up, his face furious. 
 	â€œNo, wait,â€ said Ted. He looked at Patrick. â€œYou swore me an oath,â€​e said. 
 	â€œOh, no, you donâ€™t,â€ said Patrick. â€œYou may be my King, but youâ€™re not my superior officer.â€​par 	â€œHe is more,â€ said Randolph. â€œHe hath the power of life and death oâ€™er thee, without counsel or appeal. Thy officer is answerable to his, and to his King; the King is answerable to himself, and to powers so fickle â€™twere better none awakened them. And thou didst swear.â€​par 	â€œI said faith and truth,â€ said Patrick, â€œand youâ€™l get more of both of them if you let me go my gait.â€​par 	â€œPatrick,â€ said Ted, â€œremember where you are. 
 	The oath means what it means. Words have power here.â€​par 	â€œSay some, then,â€ said Patrick, his face flushed again but otherwise unreadable. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t go performing private experiments like breaking the Crystal of Earth. Donâ€™t do anything without consulting us.â€​par 	Patrick looked from Celia and Matthew, who were a little tense but clearly amused, to Randolph, who was stil angry, to Fence, whose face was as uninformative as Patrickâ€™s own. Then he looked at Ted. â€œItâ€™s as bad as having a government grant,â€ he said. â€œAl right. No unauthorized research. I hope you wonâ€™t be sorry.â€​par 	â€œThy hopes commend thee,â€​aid Fence, dryly. 
 	Patrick sat down in the chair to the left of the Kingâ€™s, looking as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. If those four people had ganged up on Laura, she would have been in tears. 
 	â€œWhose turn is it now?â€ said El en, without much vigor. 
 	â€œYours, yours,â€ said Fence, â€œfor we have just put Patrick to the question.â€​par 	â€œPat?â€ said El en. â€œAsk them something you want to know.â€ And that, thought Laura, was El enâ€™s apology for what Patrick didnâ€™t know she had done. 
 	â€œTel us,â€ said Patrick, â€œabout Shanâ€™s Ring.â€​par 	â€œNay, do you tel us,â€ said Fence. â€œShan says in his journals that he had it from the unicorns, and that it did greatly magnify the power of his mirrors.â€​par 	â€œWhat was the power of his mirrors?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œTo see matters far off, as ours show us stil today,â€
 	
 	said Fence. â€œMayhap also to see things that shal be an certain conditions be met; we are not agreed.â€​par 	â€œBecause thatâ€™s what Apsinthion could do with his mirrors,â€ said Ted, â€œand I donâ€™t think he had a ring.â€​par 	â€œWell, does Shanâ€™s Ring magnify the power of your mirrors?â€​emanded Patrick. 
 	â€œNot ours,â€ said Fence. â€œShanâ€™s were, it may be, made differently.â€​par 	Patrick scowled. â€œWhat about the riddle?â€​e said. 
 	â€œWe solved that,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t think so,â€ said Patrick. â€œI think that was fortuitous. I think blowing time awry is a side effect, and every time we use Shanâ€™s Ring we do we donâ€™t know what.â€​par 	â€œThe red man,â€ said Laura, â€œsaid it worked too wel and woke up powers that were better off sleeping.â€​par 	â€œWhat powers?â€ said Fence. â€œOnly the Outside Powers do sleep.â€​par 	â€œBut Benjamin said they were rising,â€ said El en, â€œbefore we ever found Shanâ€™s Ring.â€ She seemed to give up. â€œYour turn,â€​he said to Fence. 
 	â€œThis matterâ€™s too long for talk,â€ said Fence, â€œbut I would youâ€™d write me the story of your game as you did most commonly playâ€™t out. In its departures from our history we may find answers.â€​par 	Laura thought this would be tedious; but it was clever of Fence to avoid asking them to talk about the game, in front of people who didnâ€™t know what Randolph had done. 
 	
 	â€œYou should get another question, then,â€​he said. 
 	â€œIn this game,â€ said Fence, â€œhow were events ordered?â€​par 	They al looked helplessly at one another. Fence said, â€œTel me of a smal thing only.â€​par 	â€œFire-letters,â€​aid Matthew. â€œHad you those?â€​par 	El en laughed. â€œOh, yes,â€​he said. â€œThat was my fault. Ted and Patrick sneaked off and built a bonfire without me, and I got so mad they had to make up the fire-letters on the spot.â€​par 	Matthew looked as if he wanted to withdraw the question. 
 	Randolph said, â€œ This is how our very lives are ordered?â€​par 	â€œOr the other way?â€​aid Laura, quickly. 
 	â€œYes,â€ said Patrick, with an approving glance. 
 	â€œ Because in the Hidden Land there are fire-letters, when Ted and I needed to calm El en down with some intriguing thought, fire-letters came into our minds.â€​par 	El en started to say something; Laura shook her head, hard; and El en closed her mouth. Laura was relieved. This was no time for the old argument about who had put what into whose head. However distasteful it might be to the five of them to think that their wonderful game had been slipped into their heads by Claudia, it was far worse for the characters of the game to think that al their actions and al their history had been dictated by a bunch of children in unwitting col aboration with a renegade sorcerer. Until they knew which wayâ€”if eitherâ€”it had gone, it would be better for the people who had to live in the Hidden Land to think that power flowed from them to Lauraâ€™s world, and not the other way around. 
 	â€œI think we should take a break,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWel , we must al to our studies,â€ said Fence, pushing his chair back. â€œBear yourselves meekly, I beg of you; and should you see Benjamin, stand aside from his path.â€​par 	
 CHAPTER 7

 	SHE dozed in the dusty house. The windows of her mind were open. If anything happened that concerned her, she would dream of it. The six cats dreamed now, twitching, and gave her sleep a faint background of breathless rushing and the taste of blood. The water-beasts were lavishly entertained by the courtesies of the man Apsinthion; their smugness mingled with the catsâ€™. The voices that abode in this place sang lul abies. This did not mean that they had forgiven her, but that they could, for a time, forget. 
 	The music that summoned her burst in like a shower of hail. She had sprung to her feet before her eyes opened. No echo drifted in the sun with the dust motes. The cats slept on. The voices altered and proclaimed, The way was long, the wind was cold, the hemlock umbrels tall and fair, whilst we have slept we have grown old, his house is in the village there. 
 	She looked intently at her left ankle, with the cat scratch, and the smear of dirt on the bone, and the little faint scar from the unicornâ€™s hoof. The voices ceased. One instrument could reach so into her sleep; and one person knew what music to play on it. The music was old and wel loved; anyone might play it; that might be chance. But play it on that flute? She stood up and went along the dim hal to the back room, and found after a momentâ€™s thought a pane on the upper right of the back wal . 
 	â€œCedric,â€​he said. â€œThy playing troubleth me.â€​par 	Her second lover had long, dark hair and green eyes and looked more like Randolph than she had remembered. He gazed out of the little diamond pane at her, and the red stone in the ring he wore glared at her like the eye of an angry wolf. He said, in his snug, deep voice, â€œWhen art thou?â€​par 	â€œIn September of the four hundred and ninetieth year since King John defeated the Dragon King.â€​par 	â€œIn August of that eventful year,â€ he said, laughter limning his voice, â€œI did give my flute away. Look elsewhere for the source of thy discomfort. Iâ€™l trouble thee no more.â€​par 	â€œYou wil trouble me always,â€ she said; for what use, after al , could he make of this weakness now? 
 	â€œThou troublest thyself,â€​e said. 
 	â€œWho had the flute from thee?â€​par 	â€œLaura,â€ said he. â€œPrincess of the Secret Country.â€​par 	â€œThou fool,â€ said Claudia. â€œThe Princess of the Secret Country died in June. That was a creature of mine.â€​par 	â€œI do not think so,â€ he said. â€œLook again.â€ And he turned and walked away from her. She leaned her forehead on the soft, warm glass and stared at him with al her strength. The clearing in the forest where he had stood formed itself for her, each dead brown needle as precise as a jewel on the merchantâ€™s velvet. But she could not bring him back. 
 	To think of fol owing him into the dark backward and abysm of time, leaving her plots half-woven, strings dangling from the loom, was foolish. But her smile was not for its foolishness. She was tired. The tools she had brought to finish out the pattern were rebel ious. One of them had the flute of Cedric. It was too late to make improvisations in the pattern. They would look like mistakes. They would be mistakes. Unless this should be not the weavingâ€™s border, but its middle. 
 	â€œLook again,â€​e had said. She laid her hand on one of the larger panes in the left-hand wal . â€œPurgos Aipos,â€ she said. She could not step through, but she could see. The creature Laura was afraid of the water-beasts; but she loved cats. 
 	
 CHAPTER 8

 	WHEN the council was over, Ruth took her green-bound book up to her own room, where she locked the door and curled up in a tal , carved chair liberal y supplied with cushions. She had filched the cushions from around High Castle. Lady Ruth must have enjoyed being uncomfortable. 
 	Ruth opened the book and was disappointed. The section concerning the Green Caves was a col ection of translated extracts from works she had already, painful y, read in their original tongues. Celia had been kind, but she couldnâ€™t have been thinking. How did she suppose Ruth had gotten through three months as an apprentice? 
 	Ruth laid the book down and sat looking at the room. Lady Ruth had a huge rag rug in green and red and blue; an undersized bed covered with a silk quilt in the same colors, with blue wool curtains; twelve narrow tapestries depicting the plants most precious to the Green Caves in excruciating and, given the medium, unbelievable, detail; three deep, narrow windows overlooking the vegetable garden; the chair, the table, a hanging cabinet ful of glassware, and two chests in dark wood. Unlike the Princesses Laura and El en, she had no dol s, musical instruments, or abandoned sewing projects. Whatever Lady Ruth did besides sleep and dress in white, she did it elsewhere; and whatever she owned that was not practical, she kept it elsewhere. 
 	Ruth had never bothered to find out where, if anywhere, Lady Ruth kept the appurtenances of her life. But it was with this in mind, rather than the useful intention of finding out what she could before she was barred from the Green Caves by her resignation, that she went downstairs again. 
 	The actual Green Caves were far to the west in a place cal ed, predictably, the Cavernous Domains. The members of the school of Green Sorcery in High Castle had possession of the original wine cel ars, the ones built for the inner white castle. These were natural y rather damp, but it was the skil of this branch of sorcery to turn such attributes to an asset. Ruth wended her way down and inward to one last cold, dusty stair, pushed open a wooden door stoutly bound with iron, and entered into a warm place of light and greenery, a circumscribed botanical garden. 
 	Ruth went briskly past al its riches, through another iron-bound door, and into a long corridor carpeted in yel ow and lavishly lit with golden lamps. There she stopped, considering. The first room on the right was the apprenticesâ€™ library; the second was Meredithâ€™s study; the third was the journeymenâ€™s library; the fourth was a refectory. The first room on the left was the potting room; the second was where they dried the herbs; the third was where the artists worked; and the fourth led to a suite of guest chambers for visitors who preferred to sleep underground. If the game and reality ran together in this instance, those chambers had been furnished for the Dwarves. 
 	Ruth walked down the hal and put her hand to the door of the guest-chambers. It opened readily and she stepped inside and shut it. There were two dim purple torches here, one to either side of the doorway; and one of the golden lamps at the far end of the room. It had been meant for Dwarves, al right. Ruth tried al the chairs and benches, one after the other, like Goldilocks. The room was tidy, but smel ed of damp and stone and some odd medicinal thing that might have been the torches burning, or might not. 
 	Ruth tried the door at the other side of this sitting-room. It also opened, and showed her a square hal way off which opened three more doors. Two of these led to sleeping rooms, each with four smal beds and four chests and four purple torches. The third led to a larger room lit powerful y with a dozen golden lamps. Ruth took one look, bolted inside, and shut the door hard. On the hearthrug was worked a large and perfectly recognizable cardinal. 
 	Al the wal s were lined from the floor to the twelve-foot ceiling with shelves, and al the shelves were crammed with books. There were books on the floor amid the cushions. 
 	There were books on the table in the center of the room and on al chairs around it. If this library was like the others in High Castle, there was no card catalogue. If you were lucky, there would be an index, arranged by some useless criterion such as the date on which the book had entered the library. Any index would be in the charge of Meredith, who would, presumably, hand it over to her guests. 
 	She wouldnâ€™t hand it over to Ruth. Ruth had disgraced herself back in June, when she had, to al appearances, revealed to El en and Patrick one of the protective sorceries the Green Sorcerers had planted around High Castle. 
 	Meredith had demoted her to apprentice and kept her there. 
 	Ruth leaned on the door. What was it that had made her think to come here? Lady Ruth knew; but Lady Ruthâ€™s knowledge, like this library, had no card catalogue. Ruth could read the old language the books of the Green Caves were written in, with frequent recourse to a dictionary. She could, when trapped into some ceremony of the Green Caves, make any responses that Lady Ruth had once been assigned. She couldnâ€™t remember them beforehand and spare herself apprehension. And she could not, now, cal into the lighted spaces of her mind the reason she had come to this library. 
 	She walked forward into the room and began turning over the books on the table. She thought doggedly about other things: the Australian accent that made even the plainest of the boys at school worth listening to; the fact that she had forgotten to sew the middle button back onto her denim skirt; how Shan had chewed up her copy of The King of Elflandâ€™s Daughter.  Final y, in desperation, she began reciting poetry. She didnâ€™t know much, unlike El en, who memorized it with the same speed and dispatch with which she ate chocolate. â€œWith blackest moss the flower-plots
 	/ Were thickly crusted, one and al ,â€ she announced to the cold, swept fireplace. â€œThe rusted nails fel from the knots / That held the pear to the garden-wal .â€​par 	And with the same thoughtless assurance, the same swift walk of habit, with which she used to make for the science fiction shelf in the library at home, Ruth walked to the shelves on the right of the fireplace, knelt down, and extracted from the middle of the bottom shelf three smal volumes bound in red. 
 	â€œBingo!â€ said Ruth, unpoetical y; and she sat down on the hearthrug, folded her legs up under the ful white skirt, and began to read. 
 	The books were written in a relatively plain English. The spel ing was abominable. They were titled A Short History of the Dwarves; but the Dwarves, Ruth thought, might have found it a rather narrow and unrepresentative history. They were real y the story of the impingement of the sorcerous methods of the Dwarves on the philosophy of the schools of sorcery in these central lands: the Hidden Land, Fenceâ€™s Country, the Dubious Hil s, the Great Desert, the Kingdom of Dust, and the Forested Slopes. The Dwarves had chosen three animals, the raven, the marten, and the sunfish; and by some combination of magic and what sounded to Ruth like genetics, had bred them to be magical beasts, capable of acting as spies and messengers but having in them, like the dragon or the unicorn, an unchancy element that would play you false when you could least afford it. 
 	The Dwarves, who had a fondness for green growing things but a dislike for living aboveground, had traded knowledge with the sorcerers of the middle lands. So now the Dwarves had botanical gardens under the earth, and the Green Caves had the services of snakes and fishes and the little burrowing mouse; while the Blue Sorcerers, like Fence and Randolph, could cal upon the cat, the dog, the horse, or the eagle. The Yel ow Sorcerers might tame the lesser hawks, the squirrel, or the black bear. And the Red Sorcerers had made intel igent, useful, and unchancy the red deer, certain finches, and the cardinal. 
 	Ruth stuck her feet, which had gone to sleep some time ago, ungraceful y out in front of her. â€œOh, Lord,â€ she said. She had thought the cardinals were servants of the Green Caves. The Green Caves people, however mysterious and testy, were benevolent. The Red Sorcerers were another thing entirely. Several centuries ago, they had made themselves so unpopular that the quarreling, backbiting, bitterly independent members of the other three schools had ganged up on them and tossed them out of the middle lands. Red Sorcerers were said to infest the seacoast countries, and to be al owed grudgingly in the Outer Isles. But not in the Hidden Land. 
 	
 	But Claudia wore red. Ruth jumped up, scattering books; and then made herself sit down again. Fence and Randolph must know this already. And Benjamin; what had Benjamin said to Ted? â€œI would not come between the cardinal and its charges. If thou art one.â€ Those were not the words of someone who had discovered that the messengers of an outcast school of sorcery were abroad in his adopted country. And Randolph had said to Patrick, when a cardinalâ€™s interruption saved him from having to practice fencing, â€œI knew â€™twas fol y to al ow rival magics in this castle.â€ But the rival magics were the Green Caves and the Blue Sorcery. And these rooms were for Dwarves, who were not Red Sorcerers; and yet there was a cardinal on the hearthrug. 
 	â€œYou are about as dumb as they make them,â€ Ruth said aloud. There was no need to sneak around like this. Al she had to do was ask Fence and Randolph. 
 	Except that Fence and Randolph either had not known or had not wanted to tel her. To her suggestion that she prowl around a little, trying if she might discover more about the cardinals, they had returned only the bland silence that implies consent. 
 	â€œJerks,â€ said Ruth, bitterly. She shoved the three books back into their place, stood up, and, leaning on the marble mantelpiece with its useless candles in their silver holders, she said, â€œOâ€™Driscol drove with a song /
 	The wild duck and the drake / From the tal and the tufted reeds / Of the drear Hart Lake. / And he saw how the reeds grew dark / At the coming of night tide, / And dreamed of the long dim hair / Of Bridget his bride.â€​par 	And walked, with the brisk thoughtless stride of habit, across the room, and stretched her arm up as far as she could, and tipped down a thin volume minus its binding, tied up with blue ribbon. 
 	Al of the books were copied by hand; the Secret Country had not yet discovered the glories of moveable type. The copyists, for the most part, had a tidy and invariable script; you often forgot, reading it, that somebody had painstakingly traced every letter with the sharpened quil of a goose feather. But this book was written in longhand, rather cramped and spiky. Ruth sat down in the nearest chair and began to read. 
 	It began in the midst of a sentence. â€œ. . . air is ful e of Voyces,â€ it said. The spel ing was abominable here, too, but it was consistent. If the writer spel ed â€œonlyâ€ as â€œonlie,â€​e did so every time. 
 	Ruth found neither enlightenment nor much entertainment in this work; but she plodded through al of it. â€œTo banish such Voyces,â€ she read, â€œit is above al Else necessarie that thou banishest wordes from the threshold of thy mind and heart. These Voyces do gain their powre from chance wordes thy mind or mouth shal let fal .â€​par 	As she read on, it seemed likely that it was some lesson of the Blue Sorcerers; it spoke of the habits of cats and dogs and horses and eagles, and how to address them with oneâ€™s Inmost Voice. That subject exhausted, the writer began a dissertation on the nature of enchanted weapons, and ended suddenly in the middle of a paragraph. 
 	â€œBother!â€ said Ruth, and slammed the book back into its place. There was nothing in its vicinity that looked like what had come before or after it. â€œWel ,â€​aid Ruth, â€œletâ€™s hope third time pays for al .â€ She scowled at the rug; she was running out of poetry. She cast around in her memory, and grinned. â€œEgyptâ€™s might is tumbled down / Down a-down the deeps of thought; / Greece is fal en and Troy town, / Glorious Rome hath lost her crown, /
 	Veniceâ€™ pride is naught. / But the dreams their children dreamed / Fleeting, insubstantial, vain, / Shadowy as the shadows seemed, / Airy nothing, as they deemed, / These remain.â€​par 	And thoughtlessly she took from the table before her, from under five or six tumbled volumes, a fat black book stamped with gold lettering: On the Mingling of Sorceries as They Had Been Paints on a Palette, its Benefits and Disasters. 
 	â€œWel , hal elujah!â€ said Ruth. Having no hat, she flung her handkerchief into the air and, when it fel back down onto her head, burst out laughing. 
 	Fence did not laugh. Fence, whom Ruth sought over al the first two levels of High Castle and final y found, resignedly, in his own room at the top of his two hundred and eight steps, was appal ed. He knew the book, but he had not known that the sorcerers of the Green Caves possessed a copy. Nor had he known that the short history of the Dwarves existed, or that the origins of his own knowledge might be as those red volumes claimed. It was hard to say which discovery upset him more. 
 	â€œIâ€™d thought there was one copy only,â€ he said, holding the fat black book in one hand and absently pouring wine for Ruth with the other. 
 	Ruth pushed her glass under the effervescent pale stream and said, â€œThank you, thatâ€™s enough. Why are you so surprised? Didnâ€™t you tel us that those purple water-things were the result of combining Green and Blue sorcery?â€​par 	
 	â€œNo,â€ said Fence, putting the bottle down and looking up sharply, â€œyou told us.â€​par 	â€œYou didnâ€™t deny it,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œItâ€™s true,â€ said Fence, paging through the book. 
 	â€œBut look you, we had thought that was the only instance of such meddling, for that the results were so il . 
 	Claudiaâ€™s knife wherewith she made to stab me below was also of that combination, wherefore we knew her to be renegade. But that the cardinal began as the Red Magiciansâ€™ servant is il news, and fresh. Moreâ€™s amiss than Claudia.â€ He shut the book. â€œRead you aught else?â€​par 	Ruth described the fragment bound in blue ribbons. 
 	Fenceâ€™s face darkened. â€œThat,â€ he said, â€œis the journal of Shan. If they came by it honestly, they had given it into our keeping.â€ He stood up. â€œRest here. I think I must speak with Meredith.â€​par 	â€œFence, you canâ€™t! Sheâ€™l kil me!â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Fence. â€œWhat keys and knowledge are needful, to find this library?â€​par 	â€œNo keys,â€ said Ruth. â€œItâ€™s in the old wine cel ars.â€​par 	â€œI might wander there, as wel as anyone,â€ said Fence. â€œFear me not, Iâ€™l contrive some tale.â€ He grinned. â€œAnd this also may serve as the reason whereby I shal remove you from their influence. You need not resign, lady; weâ€™l forbid you their company.â€​par 	Ruth, ful of profound misgivings that she could barely articulate even to herself, got up quickly. â€œFence, is this wise? Do you want to start a major fight between two schools of magicians on the eve of your departure?â€​par 	â€œBetter late than never,â€ said Fence, grimly for him. 
 	â€œIâ€™l see you at supper.â€ And he tucked the book under his arm and went out, slamming the heavy door behind him. 
 	
 CHAPTER 9

 	AFTER the council, Ted and Patrick retired to their room, where Patrick lay on the rug and read Inherit the Stars, and Ted sat in the window seat and read the book Celia had given him. 
 	Its framing narration was written for ten-year-olds; but it quoted copiously from Shanâ€™s journals, from later commentators on them, and from a variety of other sorcerous and historical works that were hard for Ted to puzzle out and would have been far too much for a ten-year-old. Maybe you were supposed to begin with the framework and grow gradual y into the quotations. Ted plowed doggedly through them whether he understood them or not; maybe they would wake up Edwardâ€™s knowledge, or spur Edward to make some enlightening remark. 
 	He was reading the story of the wizard and the animals. 
 	The old man in al the tapestries and carvings was Prospero, who had been Master of the Red School, where Shan had started out as an apprentice. In pursuit of his studies, he had been sent to a place cal ed Griseous Lake, to watch a song happen. This made no sense to Ted, but there was no explanation. He had lost his horse and arrived too late for the song, as the result of which a young Blue Sorcerer had died. At Griseous Lake, he had met Melanie, and after a time had quarreled with her because she had made him immortal. Ted, remembering that immortality came from the blood of a unicorn kil ed by treachery, could understand a reluctance to profit from such a deed; but Shan, besides that, seemed also to object to immortality itself. 
 	
 	itself. 
 	The Red Sorcerers al had animal companions, whom they cal ed fel ows. One of the early tasks of an apprentice was to find his inner ear, wherewith he could understand his fel ows, and his inner voice, wherewith he could speak to them. Shan, who had been clumsy and backward in this regard, achieved both voice and ear suddenly in the course of gaining his immortality. He had not meant to cheat, if you could cal that cheating, and he did not want the immortality anyway. But the Red School dismissed him from its service. 
 	He had taken from the body of the dead Blue Sorcerer anything he thought the manâ€™s friends might find valuable. He accordingly took this col ection to the Blue School, which welcomed him happily and invited him to join its ranks instead. His first task was to discover exactly what had happened to the Blue Sorcerer. That was a separate story, which Ted reluctantly skipped because it had little to do with Shan. 
 	The discovery took Shan about ten years, during which he made up his quarrel with Melanie. He stil had his fel ows with him, cat, dog, horse, and eagle. He had refused to tel what few secrets of the Red School he knew to the Blue Master, but he found himself tel ing them to Melanie. 
 	Melanie, who had a long-standing grudge against the unicorns, enlisted the aid of a dragon and managed to turn a unicorn into a fel ow. When Shan found out, he was outraged; Melanie refused to release the unicorn, and moreover had told the Blue School about her achievement. 
 	The Blue School was half fascinated and half horrified; it was certainly very pleased to get the information it had wanted about the methods of the Red School. Shan spent much fruitless effort seeking a way to free the unicorn, and final y, at the unicornâ€™s request, kil ed it. Then he resigned from the Blue School before they could kick him out. 
 	â€œWhat a hideous story!â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œItâ€™s suppertime,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	Ted told him about it on the way downstairs, and had the satisfaction of seeing Patrick blanch. They found their respective sisters in the crowded hal . Ted sat down next to Ruth and requested that she pass the salt. 
 	â€œDo you know where Fence is?â€ she said, pushing the heavy cut-glass salt cel ar in his direction so carelessly that she spil ed its silver spoon and a good pile of salt. El en made an exasperated noise and began spooning the spil ed salt back into the cel ar, along with a few crumbs and some cat hair. 
 	â€œI havenâ€™t seen him since this morning,â€ said Ted, looking away from this operation and concentrating on Ruthâ€™s face. She seemed to be trying not to cry, and Ted felt it necessary to justify having lost track of Fence. 
 	â€œIâ€™ve been reading.â€​par 	â€œSo have we al ,â€ said Ruth, darkly. â€œFence has gone to beard Meredith in her den, and he said heâ€™d see me at supper.â€​par 	She explained what had happened. Ted couldnâ€™t blame her for worrying. It was Fenceâ€™s nature that, if he said he would see you at supper, then he would see you at supper. Ted said, â€œWhereâ€™s Meredithâ€™s den, Ruthie? Should we go rescue him?â€​par 	â€œWhat do you suppose we can do against a bunch of sorcerers?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œQuite a lot, probably,â€ said Ruth. â€œTheyâ€™re sworn to abjure violence, and there are five of us. But we arenâ€™t supposed to know anything about it.â€​par 	â€œWhereâ€™s Randolph, then?â€​aid Laura. 
 	They al looked around; it was crowded in the Dragon Hal , and al the red and pink light made it hard to recognize people. El en final y located Randolph by standing on the bench. He was sitting with Matthew and Celia at one of the shorter tables to the right of the fireplace. 
 	â€œBenjaminâ€™s with them,â€ said Laura, also standing, rather precariously, on the bench. 
 	Ted got up. Sure enough, between Randolphâ€™s wild black head and Celiaâ€™s smooth, braided one loomed, six inches higher than either of them, the graying, dark head of Benjamin and his big, brown-clad shoulders. Matthew, sitting across from the three of them, caught Tedâ€™s eyes and favored him with a steady, if blank, look, probably intended to tel Ted to behave without attracting Benjaminâ€™s attention. 
 	â€œWel , heâ€™s got to look at us sometime,â€ said Ted, and started to climb over the bench. 
 	Ruth caught hold of the hem of his shirt and dragged him back down, upsetting her ale into her plate. â€œNot today,â€ she said. â€œWe were specifical y ordered to leave him alone today.â€​par 	â€œDo you want to help Fence, or donâ€™t you?â€​par 	There was a furious silence. 
 	â€œWel , for heavenâ€™s sake,â€ El en said. 
 	â€œYouâ€™re the King, arenâ€™t you? Get a page to fetch Randolph.â€​par 	At a formal banquet Ted would have thought of this himself. There would have been pages everywhere, and he would have been stuck up at the head of the table feeling sil y. But in this hal you served yourself and sat where you pleased. â€œSeest thou any pages?â€​e said. 
 	â€œI see John,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œWel , wave to him and then get down off that bench before Benjamin sees you. Laura, get down before you fal down.â€​par 	Laura got down. El en also did as she was told with remarkable meekness. John came up to them smiling, leaned over the table, and said to Ted, â€œHow may I aid you?â€​par 	â€œCould you, of your courtesy, go to Lord Randolph and tel himâ€”privily,â€ added Ted, â€œthat I need to speak to him?â€​par 	John looked not as if he were going to refuse, but as if he were puzzled. Ted said, on impulse, â€œBenjamin is vexed with us.â€​par 	John grinned a grin of perfect comprehension and said, â€œAs Your Majesty wil s it,â€ in a tone that any one of the fi ve of them might have used, playing. Then he charged across the crowded room to Randolph. Randolph got up promptly, crossed the room, sat down next to Ted with his back to the table, and said, â€œWhat is your gracious wil ?â€​n a perfectly serious voice. 
 	Ruth told her story for the fourth time. Randolph frowned al through it. â€œYou have been with the cavernous magicians these three months, and knew not sooner?â€​par 	â€œHow was I supposed to know sooner?â€ said Ruth, so sharply that Ted blinked. Randolph seemed unaffected; and also unconvinced. Ruth said, â€œI spent those months as a disgraced apprentice; because of the Nightmare Grass.â€​par 	â€œOho!â€ said Randolph, as if something had suddenly become clear to him. 
 	â€œYes,â€ said Ruth. â€œSo I didnâ€™t know. But your Lady Ruth knew right where those books were.â€​par 	â€œThe next question,â€ said Randolph, slowly, â€œis, knew Meredith that she knew?â€​par 	â€œYou think she might have been as sneaky as I am?â€​par 	â€œSneakier by far,â€ said Randolph, looking her in the eye until she turned red. 
 	â€œShouldnâ€™t we al do some sneaking?â€​aid Ted, impatiently. â€œYou donâ€™t know what may be happening to Fence.â€​par 	â€œBut look you,â€ said Randolph. â€œRuth must not seem to have betrayed her to Fence.â€​par 	â€œWel , you wonâ€™t find out by speculating,â€ said Patrick. â€œLet Ruth stay here.â€​par 	â€œCome on, then,â€​aid El en, jumping up. 
 	Randolph stood up from the bench and surveyed them. 
 	â€œAl of you?â€​e said. 
 	â€œSay Fence asked you to come for him if he was late, and we were al with you and would not be gainsaid,â€ said El en. 
 	â€œAnd thatâ€™s no more than truth,â€ said Randolph. 
 	He stopped in the act of turning away, and looked at Ruth again. â€œWil you guide us so far as the door?â€​e said. 
 	
 	â€œGood 
 	heavens, 
 	donâ€™t 
 	you 
 	know 
 	where
 	Meredithâ€™s study is?â€​par 	â€œHow should I?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ruth stood up and shook crumbs from the white folds of her skirt. â€œItâ€™s in the old wine cel ars.â€ As Randolph simply went on standing there, she added, â€œ Fence knew where those are.â€​par 	â€œShut Fence in a wardrobe,â€ said Randolph, precisely, â€œand heâ€™l find the loose plank iâ€™the back before thouâ€™st turned the key iâ€™the lock.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™d think,â€ said Ruth, exasperated, â€œthat rival schools of magic would spy on one another.â€​par 	â€œSo they have,â€ said Randolph, in extremely grim tones. â€œBut one of â€™em hath been oâ€™er-trusting. 
 	Come your ways.â€​par 	They fol owed him out of the noisy hal . Ruth then led them to the back of High Castle, out of the regions Ted was familiar with. Nobody said anything until she marched down the last narrow stairway and flung open the door into a dazzle of gold light. It smel ed of flowers and greenness and grass baking; it smel ed like the soul of summer; it smel ed as the whole outdoors had smel ed on the day of the Unicorn Hunt. Something stirred and stretched in the back of Tedâ€™s mind, and, incomprehensibly but with a pleasing rhyme and rhythm, Edward said, â€œThe fieldis ouerflouis /
 	With gowans that grouis, / Quhair lilies lyk lou is, / Als rid as the rone.â€​par 	â€œI never knew this was here!â€​aid El en, indignant. 
 	And Patrick said, â€œThey can grow trees underground. 
 	One point for us.â€​par 	
 	â€œWhatâ€™re you doing,â€ said Ted, irritated, â€œkeeping a list of everything we got right in the game?â€​par 	â€œShut up,â€​aid Ruth, from the far door. 
 	Randolph had already joined her there; the rest of them hurried up. â€œNow, then,â€ said Ruth to Randolph. 
 	â€œMeredithâ€™s study is the second door on the right.â€
 	She took him by the elbows and shook him slightly, as if he were 
 	Patrick. 
 	â€œNow watch 
 	 out,â€ she said. 
 	â€œMeredith is a demon.  Sheâ€™l say awful things that go around in your head for weeks afterward.â€​par 	Randolph said, â€œWeâ€™l heed your warnings,â€ and Ruth let go of him. He opened the door softly, and they fol owed him through it. 
 	
 CHAPTER 10

 	RUTH stood in the green smel and waited. She leaned her back against an oak and thought very pleasantly about almost nothing. In the far spaces of her mind somebody said, The fieldis ouerflouis / With gowans that grouis, /
 	 Quhair lilies lyk lou is, / Als rid as the rone.  She looked thoughtful y at the lilies at her feet, which were certainly the color of rowan berries, although she would not have cal ed that red. She blinked; the tangled, half-familiar language drifted away. 
 	The far door burst open and the rest of them tumbled back in. El en and Patrick bolted up to her and began talking about broken glass and people in white. 
 	â€œNot here,â€ said Fence. â€œCome to my chamber.â€​par 	â€œOh, Fence, for the love of mercy,â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œNot al those stairs. Come to my room. I think Lady Ruth might even have kept there somewhat for our refreshment.â€​par 	They came with her docilely enough. 
 	It seemed to Ruth, ushering her six guests into her room, that she had done nothing since returning to the Hidden Land except gather in odd places for uncomfortable conferences. Her three younger relations piled into the room and took over the bed. Ted lay on the rug. Fence, refusing her offer of the one chair, sat on the table. Randolph came past her last of al , and Ruth felt suddenly peculiar. He was much tal er than the rest of them, and his constraint and the signs of stress on his face made him seem by far the most adult. Fence was as grown-up as they came, but Fence seldom looked it. How old were they, anyway? Younger than her parents? Ruth consulted the back of her mind, which was silent; and then blurred her thoughts, whereupon she knew that Randolph was twenty-six and Fence three years older. 
 	Ruth shut the door. Randolph sat down on one of her chests, beneath the tapestry depicting the double white violet that blooms twice a year. Ruth felt it necessary to take the situation in hand. She took from the little wal cupboard a tray containing eight rather dusty goblets in red glass and a large red glass decanter. She put the tray down beside Fence, twisted the stopper out of the decanter, and poured into one of the goblets a thick, dark fluid. It clung to the sides of the glass and gave off a potent smel of blackberries. 
 	Ruth handed the glass to Fence, who was looking bemused. 
 	â€œThere,â€​he said. â€œIs that fit to drink?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s one of Agathaâ€™s cordials,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œSweet but wholesome.â€​par 	Ruth accordingly distributed glasses to everybody, and sat down in Lady Ruthâ€™s chair. â€œNow wil somebody tel me coherently and in a decent order,â€ she said, â€œwhat happened in there?â€​par 	â€œFence first,â€​aid Randolph, in a stifled tone as if he wanted to laugh, â€œfor great events transpired eâ€™er we arrived.â€​par 	Fence snorted, and ran both hands through his hair, flattening it again. â€œOh, great,â€ he said. â€œTwo sorcerers with more wit than to use their powers; the one barred from any effect of violence by the lack of his weapon and a disinclination to do harm, tâ€™other by her sworn oath. A tussle of children.â€​par 	â€œWhat made you so mad?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œMe, thou knowest,â€ said Fence. â€œWhat did so enrage Meredith was, first, that any dare meddle in her affairs; second, that I should presume to remove the Lady Ruth; third, that I demanded to read oâ€™er the indices of her libraries. She soon minded her that should she ope her indices to me, my presumption would then be revealed to me regarding the Lady Ruth.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t like the sound of that,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œYou shouldnâ€™t,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Fence looked at him, and then at Ruth. â€œIndeed, she said sheâ€™d speak to you herself, and I could not gainsay her.â€​par 	Ruth experienced the swooping dread of a person who wakes up on a lovely summer morning and remembers that she has to go to the dentist. â€œShanâ€™s mercy, Fence! 
 	You told me not to trouble myself! Now sheâ€™s thrice as stirred up as sheâ€™d have been had I braved her, and youâ€™ve left her to me?â€​par 	â€œWhat am I to the Lady Ruth,â€ said Fence, rather sharply for him, â€œthat I might meddle so in her affairs?â€​par 	â€œHow should I know? You said you could meddle!â€​par 	â€œForgive me,â€ said Fence, more quietly. â€œI did in some wise mistake the Lady Ruthâ€™s commerce with Meredith.â€​par 	â€œShe hasnâ€™tâ€”-I havenâ€™t had any commerce with Meredith al summer, not to speak of.â€​par 	
 	â€œThat, I think, is for your punishment. She hath withdrawn her custom of friendly confidence, thinking to wound you.â€​par 	Ruth found this reasonable, but could not refrain from saying, â€œOh, thatâ€™s wonderful. Now I get to go be wounded, I suppose, and hope thatâ€™s excuse enough for leaving her tutoring?â€​par 	â€œWait,â€ said Randolph. â€œFence, thou hast no power oâ€™er the Lady Ruth, but I have. Iâ€™l remove her, as my betrothed, from a malign influence. Meredith wil be choleric, but sheâ€™l have little recourse.â€​par 	Ruth struggled with contradictory impulses. Having scolded Fence for saying he would help her and failing, it was foolish, not to mention ungrateful, to refuse the selfsame help when Randolph offered it. And yet she was indignant that he should choose this way out, as if he were certain she would never manage the matter on her own. 
 	â€œRuth doesnâ€™t like it,â€ said El en, who was acute, if not discreet. 
 	â€œNor I,â€ said Randolph, promptly. â€œYet meseemeth the handiest way from out our difficulties. My lady?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m not anybodyâ€™s lady,â€ said Ruth. She had figured out what bothered her. She disliked Randolphâ€™s cal ing attention to the betrothal just when breaking it off would save them both embarrassment. But Randolph was right. She said, more calmly, â€œYes, it is the handiest way out. Itâ€™s just not very savory.â€​par 	Randolph stood up. â€œNo,â€ he said. â€œIt is of a piece with al our business this summer. By your gracious leave, Iâ€™l go rant at Meredith.â€​par 	
 	â€œShouldnâ€™t you wait until sheâ€™s calmed down?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œNo, I think not,â€ said Randolph. â€œIn the wake of calm cometh thought; the less she thinks while yet she hath Ruth in her grasp, the better.â€ He paused on his way out and said to Fence, â€œIâ€™l make report to you.â€​par 	â€œMake it here, to al of us,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Randolph said, â€œAs you wil ,â€ and left, closing the door with a certain force. 
 	â€œWhat else happened?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œ â€™Twas Claudia,â€ said Fence. â€œLike me, Meredith taught her, and did presently refuse to teach her; yet she learned more than Meredith knew, and did, it now appeareth, some little mischief. She did strew about the open library library works not rightly the Green Cavesâ€™, or rightly theirs but secret. We know not whence she had Shanâ€™s journal. The book concerning animals they had most properly from the Red Sorcerers, before the war; and they do use it to subdue the cardinal to their wil , and for naught else. The third book, the history, they had from the Dwarves, though it differeth from our own accounts.â€​par 	Ted listened earnestly to al this, as if he were trying to commit it al to memory. The three younger ones, having heard it twice already, bounced gently, trying out the bed. 
 	â€œAl right,â€ said Ruth. â€œNow, almost nobody at High Castle wears red, except Claudia, who wears it al the time, and Benjamin, who has a red cape. How does this fit in?â€​par 	â€œWe shy from red, for the reasons you saw in the book,â€ said Fence. â€œThis is no law, nor hath it truly the force of custom. Claudia, methought, did wear red to be rebel ious at little cost. Benjamin wears it because he is of Fenceâ€™s Country, where al the wars were fought. It is their reminder of what transpireth when sorcerers strive one with another.â€​par 	â€œFence,â€ said Ted. â€œThe man who sent us here wore red.â€​par 	â€œGood grief,â€ said Ruth, jarred. â€œIâ€™d forgotten. So is he a Red Sorcerer? Is this al some complicated trap?â€​par 	â€œI know not,â€ said Fence, fixing her with a very sober expression. â€œBut this matter, as it so far unfolds itself, hath not quite the smel of those Sorcerers. What smel it hath is strange to me.â€​par 	â€œCould Claudia be a Red Sorcerer?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œNo doubt,â€ said Fence. â€œInsofar as she is a Blue Sorcerer, and an initiate of the Green Caves. She might have traveled, and cozened one of them also.â€​par 	â€œI couldnâ€™t help wondering,â€ said Ruth, â€œwhy the mixture of Blue and Green sorcery should produce purple beasts. What if itâ€™s a mixture of Blue and Red?â€​par 	â€œShe had one blue and one red stone on her dagger,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œAre the Red Sorcerers plotting a comeback?â€
 	suggested Patrick. 
 	Ruth looked at Fence, who was leaning back, supported by his hands, and looking half-thoughtful and half-amused. 
 	There was a pause, as that line of discussion died for lack of knowledge. Ruth wondered if Fence could have supplied it. 
 	
 	â€œBenjamin,â€ said Laura, after a moment, â€œsaid red was the color of the Outside Powers.â€​par 	â€œThat is so,â€ said Fence. â€œFrom them the Red Sorcerers did draw their power; they trifle not with the elements, as we other schools al do, but reach beyond them to their origins.â€​par 	â€œSounds dangerous,â€ said Patrick, in a tone relatively free of sarcasm. 
 	â€œIt is so,â€​aid Fence, looking him straight in the eye. 
 	Patrick didnâ€™t look away, but he did shrug in the way he would when he thought you were taking something too seriously. Fence smiled at him, started to speak, and stopped. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œYouâ€™re very like,â€ said Fence to Patrick. 
 	â€œVery like Prince Patrick.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s a pity,â€ said Ruth, tartly, over the ache in her throat. 
 	â€œFence?â€ said Ted. â€œWhat about the rest of us?â€​par 	Ruth turned and glared at him; he was only making things worse. Ted lifted his chin and gave her a level, slightly arrogant stare from under his thick brown bangs. It was a very Edward-like look. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Fence. â€œEl en is like the Princess Laura, and Laura like the Princess El en. Thou, my prince, art very like Edward overal , but hast some relish of contention in thee, that I do welcome, and did wish to find in Edward. Thou hast also less of maturity.â€​par 	
 	â€œIâ€™m only fourteen,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWel for you,â€ said Fence, his mouth quirking, â€œthat Edward isâ€”that Edward was someways behind his age.â€​par 	Ruth, fuming, saw that Ted had indeed made things worse, making Fence think about Edward, whom Fence had been particularly fond of. â€œWhat about me?â€​he said. 
 	Fence gave her a considering look, and she wished she had not tucked her feet up under her skirts. Lady Ruth was dignified. â€œAnd thou,â€ said Fence, unsmiling, â€œhath an outward show very like thy other, but art somewhat softer iâ€™theâ€™center.â€​par 	â€œI am not,â€ said Ruth, severely, â€œa chocolate-covered marshmal ow cookie.â€​par 	El en choked. 
 	Fence made a face. â€œâ€™Tis too sweet a combination,â€ he said. â€œYou mistake me. The Lady Ruth made never a sweet show.â€​par 	â€œNo wonder she and Meredith got along,â€​aid El en. 
 	Fence did smile at that. 
 	â€œI canâ€™t wait to get out of here,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œI would be gone also,â€ said Fence, â€œbut there are preparations cannot be hurried.â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s just that between Benjamin and Agatha and Randolphâ€”and this betrothalâ€”â€​par 	â€œIs Andrew better?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œYes!â€ said Ruth. â€œAndrew doesnâ€™t love us; we never even pretended to love Andrew.â€​par 	
 	 â€œRuth,â€​ said Ted, with an appal ed gaze that had nothing of Edward in it. 
 	Ruth gulped. Now she was doing it. You jerk, she thought to herself. It must be the mental equivalent of wanting to pick off a scab; except it isnâ€™t your scab. 
 	â€œTrouble not,â€​aid Fence, kindly. 
 	â€œYou keep saying that,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Fence, â€œyou are al so sensible that, did it not sort so il with my presentiments, Iâ€™d think you conscience-scathed, and eager to amend it.â€​par 	Sensible? thought Ruth. Sensible to sight as wel as hearing? Sensitive? She opened her mouth, but Ted was quicker. 
 	â € œ W e are 
 	conscience-scathed,â€ 
 	said 
 	Ted. 
 	â€œClaudia made it sound as if we had some hand in al your misfortunes. We didnâ€™t know we were affecting real people, when we played our game; but we did play it. 
 	Itâ€™s as if,â€ said Ted, suddenly inspired, â€œwe had shot an arrow oâ€™er the house, and hurt our brother.â€​par 	â€œNo more but so?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ruth, in response to Tedâ€™s helpless glance, â€œit argues a sort of carelessness in us, doesnâ€™t it?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s not just conscience,â€ said El en, suddenly. 
 	â€œWeâ€™re sorry.  Not because we did it, but because it pains us to see you in evil straits.â€​par 	â€œI know it,â€​aid Fence. â€œWhy?â€​par 	â€œBecause weâ€™re so sensible, I suppose,â€ said Ruth, dryly. â€œDonâ€™t the evil straits of strangers pain you, Fence?â€​par 	â€œOf a certainty; but not in this wise.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s it,â€ said Ted. â€œYouâ€™re strangers, and yet you arenâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œAnd you,â€​aid Fence. â€œSo are you to us.â€​par 	â€œAnd that,â€ said Ruth, â€œis why I want to go. 
 	Weâ€™l be doing something to make restitution.â€​par 	Randolph came in without knocking, shut the door, and leaned on it. He looked harassed. 
 	â€œWhat did I tel you?â€ said Ruth. â€œAround and around in your head for weeks afterward.â€​par 	â€œNay, hours merely, Iâ€™l wager,â€ said Randolph, with a very brief smile. 
 	â€œDo you want some more cordial?â€ said Ruth, offering him her untouched glass. â€œYou look as if you needed strengthening.â€​par 	Randolph smiled again. â€œI thank you, no. The deedâ€™s done; you are free of the Green Caves. But free upon condition.â€ He exchanged a long look with Fence, the meaning of which escaped Ruth. Randolph seemed resigned; Fence, after a blank moment, cast his eyes to the ceiling and let his breath out in a sound that might have been a snort, or an aborted chuckle. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t be so dramatic!â€ said Ruth, losing patience. â€œWhat do I have to do? Dress in sackcloth and ashes? Promise her my firstborn son? Set the sun, the moon, and the stars in the sky? Sort innumerable bushels of mixed wheat, barley, and rye into their separate piles? 
 	What? I canâ€™t wait.â€​par 	
 	Randolph, grinning as Ruth had never seen him grin, came forward and knelt at her feet. Ruth wished he wouldnâ€™t. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Randolph. He looked up at her with a face not much altered from the one she saw in her mirror every morning. If she had had a brother who resembled her, instead of taking after her fatherâ€™s side of the family, he would have looked like Randolph. â€œNo,â€​aid Randolph again. â€œIf thatâ€™s what thou hast stomach for, this stricture is bare of substance as the air.â€​par 	â€œBegot of nothing but vain fantasy,â€ said Ruth, unable to resist. 
 	Randolph frowned, and looked at Fence, who said, â€œIs this thy play-maker again?â€​par 	â€œYep,â€ 
 	said 
 	Patrick 
 	from 
 	the 
 	bed. 
 	â€œShakespeare. Romeo and Juliet.  And you know what he said right after that? â€˜y mind misgives / Some consequence yet hanging in the stars / Shal bitterly begin his fearful date / With this nightâ€™s revels and expire the term / Of a despised life closed in my breast / By some vile forfeit of untimely death.â€™ â€​par 	This precise and unemotional recitation was accorded a polite silence. Ruth glared at her brother. That was Romeoâ€™s speech, just before he went off to crash the Montaguesâ€™ party and meet Juliet and begin the love affair that would kil him. Patrick thought she needed a warning. He was an idiot. 
 	â€œWould you mind tel ing me, my lord,â€ she said to Randolph, â€œwhat is this stricture?â€​par 	â€œâ€™Tis merely,â€ said Randolph, â€œthat we wed before a year is out.â€​par 	
 	â€œWel , youâ€™re right, thatâ€™s no problem,â€ said Ruth, over a very uncomfortable jolt in her stomach. â€œWe should be finished with this business, one way or the other, long before a year is out.â€ Oh, Lord, she thought, what a thing to say. Heâ€™l probably be dead. 
 	â€œDid you give her your word?â€ said Fence to Randolph. 
 	There was another silence, not a polite one. Ruth was amazed. She watched Randolph turn red and then extremely white, and then sit back on his heels and look squarely at Fence. 
 	â€œI did so,â€ he said. â€œSo you see, my lord wizard and my lady play-maker, you need have no fear of me; for that I promise, I do not perform. I beg your gracious leave.â€
 	And he stood up, with considerable grace, and went at a measured pace out of the room. He closed the door so gently that al they heard was the little click of the latch. 
 	â€œWel !â€ said Patrick. â€œTact isnâ€™t your middle name, is it?â€​par 	â€œShut up,â€​aid Ruth. Had Fence known what he was saying? By kil ing the King, Randolph had broken the most solemn oath he would ever take, and he was painful y conscious of it. Could Fence possibly have made such a wounding remark by accident? 
 	â€œI meant Fence,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œShut the hel up!â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œSpare him thy ire; he hath the right of it,â€ said Fence. He slid off the table, looking very tired. â€œAnd so hath Randolph also. Give you good day.â€​par 	
 	And he, too, went with a certain stateliness, his hands buried in his black, star-shimmered robe, to the door, and went out, and closed it quietly. 
 	â€œPatrick,â€​aid Ruth. â€œDonâ€™t do that.â€​par 	â€œAl I did,â€ said Patrick, â€œwas make an observation. It was Fence who asked the wrong question.â€​par 	â€œDonâ€™t argue,â€ said Ted. â€œThings are bad enough without it.â€​par 	Nobody contradicted him. Ruth put the glass of cordial to her mouth and drank its contents in three gulps. It tasted beautiful y of blackberries; and enticingly, just a little, of alcohol; and even less, but unmistakably, of dust. 
 	
 CHAPTER 11

 	ON the day before they were to leave High Castle, they sat in their favorite spot on the wal above the moat, throwing biscuit to the swans, who ignored it. Some of it was snapped up by large, unidentified fish, and some of it sank soggily. The moat was flat and glassy, except where their exertions had disturbed it. Beyond the last wal , the huge plain had turned brown, but behind them in the garden late roses, limp, bright, and fragrant, spil ed everywhere and climbed the wal and scratched Laura. Ted had given her his handkerchief to tie up the scratch, and she had dropped it into the water, where it, too, sank soggily. 
 	â€œRuth,â€ said Ted. â€œWhatâ€™s it to Meredith if you and Randolph get married?â€​par 	Ruth let her breath out explosively and looked at him past Patrick and El en. â€œWhatâ€™s it to anybody?â€ she said. She sounded a great deal fiercer than was usual with her. â€œBut when did that stop anybody in this abominable castle from having an opinion on the matter?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s a political issue, Ruthie,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s why they al have opinions.â€​par 	â€œWhat I meant,â€ said Ted, â€œwas why should Meredith think she could make Randolph promise heâ€™d marry youâ€”herâ€”before a year is out?â€​par 	â€œPresumably,â€ said Ruth, â€œbecause, if he didnâ€™t mean to marry her, then he didnâ€™t have any business taking her away from Meredith. So Meredith made him promise, to test his sincerity.â€​par 	
 	â€œAnd,â€ said El en, â€œif Meredith taught Claudia, maybe 
 	she 
 	knew 
 	Randolph 
 	was 
 	dangling 
 	after
 	Claudiaâ€”â€​par 	â€œOr Claudia was dangling after Randolph,â€ said Ruth. 
 	El en shrugged. â€œSo Meredith suspected Randolph didnâ€™t mean to marry Lady Ruth.â€​par 	â€œ Did he mean to?â€​sked Laura. 
 	â€œGod knows,â€ said Ruth, in a tone of complete disapprobation. 
 	Ted thought of asking her what the matter was, and decided not to. She probably felt that Randolph had treated Lady Ruth shabbily; and he had. Except that the hints they had received of unexpected, possibly unsavory, depths in Lady Ruthâ€™s character made it more difficult to feel defensive on her behalf. Then again, Lady Ruth was Ruthâ€™s other self. Ted felt protective of Edward, and hoped not to find out anything unpleasant about him. 
 	He said suddenly, â€œI wish we didnâ€™t have to split up.â€​par 	â€œI wish,â€ said Ruth, â€œthat the three younger ones werenâ€™t going off on their own with nobody to keep them in line.â€​par 	â€œCeliaâ€™s 
 	going 
 	with 
 	us,â€ 
 	said 
 	Patrick, 
 	interrupting an indignant exclamation by El en. 
 	â€œShe doesnâ€™t know you,â€​aid Ruth, darkly. 
 	â€œShe knows her own kids,â€ said El en, â€œand theyâ€™re much worse.â€​par 	â€œTheyâ€™re worse than you and Laura,â€ said Ruth. 
 	
 	â€œBut nobody and nothing could prepare her for Patrick.â€​par 	â€œWhat the hel do you expect me to do?â€ demanded Patrick. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t know, but Iâ€™m sure youâ€™l think of something.â€​par 	â€œThat wasnâ€™t what I meant,â€ said Ted. â€œI real y do fear some consequence yet hanging in the stars.â€​par 	â€œFor whom?â€ asked Ruth, leaning around her sister and brother again and looking distinctly alarmed. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t know!â€ said Ted, irritably. â€œI just feel uneasy.â€​par 	â€œDid Edward have visions?â€​sked Laura. 
 	â€œI doubt it,â€ said Ruth. â€œWe could ask Fence at supper.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l see you then,â€ said Ted, who knew from experience that they would al go on arguing about what Fence might say. He climbed down from the wal and trudged along the winding, mossy path that would take him back to his part of High Castle. 
 	In the little courtyard where the fountain was, he stopped to look at it, thinking of the play that had been performed here the night of his coronation. Randolph had taken the part of Shan, and, in a gesture Ted both hoped and feared was merely symbolic, Ted had given Randolph long life, whether Randolph chose it or not. Ted realized that, in al the tapestries that told the story of Shanâ€™s animals, there was a unicorn. But there had been no unicorn in the play. 
 	Ted sat uncomfortably on the narrow, rounded edge of the fountain. A crisp yel ow elm leaf eddied by on the rol ing surface of the water. Ted scooped it out. El en came around the bend of the path, skidded to a stop in front of him, and said, â€œWhose untimely death do you fear?â€​par 	â€œNobodyâ€™s,â€ said Ted. â€œJust something bad.â€​par 	â€œWel , who do you think it wil happen to?â€​par 	â€œLaura, I suppose. Itâ€™s always Laura.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l take care of her,â€​aid El en, quite seriously. 
 	Ted looked at her. She meant it, and she was not offering the way she usual y offered to do things, because she thought they would be easy. 
 	â€œCan you?â€ said Ted. â€œBecause that is part of my misgiving. She canâ€™t ride al that way; sheâ€™l pitch on her head at the first rough terrain. And none of them wil watch out for her.â€​par 	â€œI can tel Fence and Matthew and Celia,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œMarkâ€™s 
 	always 
 	fal ing 
 	down; 
 	sheâ€™l
 	understand.â€​par 	â€œMarkâ€™s only six,â€ said Ted, gloomily. â€œYou expect it when theyâ€™re six.â€​par 	â€œWhat else do you want me to do?â€​par 	â€œMake her tel you those visions. Any time she clams up on you, sheâ€™s had one. And tel them to Fence.â€​par 	â€œOkay,â€ said El en. She shoved both hands through her hair and made a face. â€œYou like her a lot better than Patrick likes me,â€​he said. 
 	â€œWel , you and Ruth gang up on him.â€​par 	â€œWe have to,â€​aid El en. 
 	
 	â€œYes, I know, but you canâ€™t expect him to like it.â€​par 	â€œWel , you donâ€™t like it when Laura breaks things,â€​aid El en. â€œBut you like Laura.â€​par 	â€œPatrick likes you,â€ said Ted; it seemed the only thing to say, although he had no idea if it was true. He had never known El en cared about such things. He added, thoughtlessly, â€œIf he likes anybody.â€​par 	â€œMaybe thatâ€™s the problem,â€​aid El en. 
 	Â 
 	Fence was not at supper; neither was Randolph, or Matthew. The five Carrol s ate with Celia at one of the smal er tables off in a corner. Celia, when Ted asked her, said that she doubted Edward had had visions, because if he had shown any sign of magical talent he would not have chosen to be a warrior. 
 	â€œI thought he never took his nose out of a book,â€
 	said Ted. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s true,â€ said Celia, removing a mug of ale from the path of Lauraâ€™s elbow. â€œBut the books our Edward hadâ€™s nose in were al of war and weaponry, strategies and histories, the most dry and lucid accounts of any battle he could hear tel of.â€​par 	â€œRandolph said he was good with the sword,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œSo he wasnâ€™t a milksop?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Celia. â€œBut a was gentle inâ€™s heart; and a scholar. The art of war, the fine points of a sword fight, liked him wel . He had not, look you, fought any battle; and Matthew thought it had liked him but il , had he come toâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œ Would he have kil edâ€”â€ began Ted, thinking aloud with his mouth ful of apple tart, and then he clamped his mouth shut abruptly. He had been about to ask if Edward would have kil ed Randolph in the rose garden. It was such a relief to talk to somebody who knew he was a fraud, he had forgotten she did not know quite everything. 
 	â€œWel ?â€​aid Celia. 
 	Ted ostentatiously finished chewing his mouthful, and then said, â€œWould he have kil ed somebody in a battle, or in a private duel, when the time came?â€​par 	â€œVery like he would. The wonder of so lovely a fight had held him, until the end, and that end duty had forced him to. He had a great regard for duty, which Randolph taught him.â€​par 	That was ironic, thought Ted. He remembered Edward, in that shadowy realm of forgetful ghosts, saying to him, â€œAvenge our foul and most unnatural murder.â€ As the game predicted, he would want vengeance for his fatherâ€™s too. In the kindly warmth of the Dragon Hal , Ted shivered, and Laura looked at him. 
 	â€œSince you speak of duty,â€ said Celia, â€œhave you fulfil ed your own, and read on what I did give you?â€​par 	â€œYes,â€​aid everybody, overlapping. 
 	â€œHow sorteth it with your imagining?â€​par 	â€œPretty wel ,â€ said Patrick. â€œEl ieâ€™s the history expert.â€​par 	â€œWel ?â€​aid Celia, looking across the table at El en. 
 	El en stopped making little pil ars of the carrot slices she had picked out of her beef pie, and said, â€œThere was a lot more to the story of Shan. We didnâ€™t know about his animals, and we didnâ€™t know he lived for hundreds of years, or about his kil ing the unicorn. We didnâ€™t know Melanie lived for hundreds of years, either. And we knew that Melanie lived at High Castle when she was little; but we certainly didnâ€™t know that she got long life from a unicorn her brothers kil ed by treachery.â€​par 	â€œWe didnâ€™t want to know it, either,â€ said Laura, feelingly. 
 	â€œHow so?â€ said Celia. â€œMelanie is no friend of thine?â€​par 	â€œNo, sheâ€™s been dead too long; nobody ever played her. But,â€ said Laura, â€œitâ€™s a much nastier story than ours.â€ This remark gave Ted some obscure comfort. 
 	â€œAnd that,â€ said Celia, standing up, â€œno doubt explaineth how it hath prevailed, for al thy sorcery.â€​par 	â€œWe donâ€™t have any sorcery,â€ said Ruth; she had said it so often recently that she had ceased to say it with any heat. 
 	â€œYou know none,â€ said Celia, picking up the skirts of her blue gown and stepping neatly over the bench. â€œYou may haveâ€™t nonetheless.â€​par 	â€œIt is the little rift within the lute,â€ said Patrick, catching Celiaâ€™s eye across the cluttered table with a look that made Ted nervous, â€œthat by and by wil make the music mute.â€​par 	Celiaâ€™s hands tightened on the folds of her skirt. She said, â€œ â€˜nd ever widening slowly silence al .â€™ â€​par 	
 	â€œWho said that?â€​atrick asked her. 
 	â€œMelanie,â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œTennyson,â€​aid Ruth to Patrick. 
 	Celia opened her hands and made a violent gesture, like somebody tel ing a rambunctious class of third-graders to sit 
 	down now.  â€œ Another play-maker?â€ she said. 
 	â€œWith how many of this pestilent breed is your country cursed?â€​par 	â€œThousands,â€ said Ruth, â€œbut we donâ€™t count it a curse. And I donâ€™t think Tennyson wrote plays; just poetry.â€ Her gaze shifted over Tedâ€™s shoulder, and fixed. She looked appal ed. 
 	â€œGive you good even,â€ said a sharp, clear voice behind Ted. 
 	Ted dropped his spoon in his lap and felt it slide to the floor. He turned his head slowly. Yes, it was Andrew, tidy and amused. What the hel did he want? 
 	â€œYou also,â€ said Celia, in a pleasant tone that was nevertheless not normal. She might speak just so to a child who was trying to lie by omission. She sat down again where she had been, between Ruth and El en. 
 	â€œHel o,â€​aid El en, alertly. 
 	Patrick and Laura mumbled something at about the same moment. 
 	â€œGood den,â€​aid Ruth, in the flat voice of despair. 
 	â€œWonâ€™t you join us?â€​aid Ted, crazily. 
 	Andrew smiled and sat on the empty stool between Ted and Laura. Laura leaned away from him, and almost fel off her stool. Luckily, Andrew was looking at Ted. 
 	
 	â€œBy your gracious leave,â€ Andrew said. Ted suddenly felt as if he had invited a fairy over his threshold, and was about to be visited with untold disasters. Andrew said to Celia, â€œWhat dost thou with this motley brood?â€​par 	He had said something similar about them once, to Fence and Randolph. He had said, â€œStrange company,â€ to which Randolph had replied, â€œâ€™Tis strange to thee,â€ leaving the honors, Ted supposed, about even. It had been clear, by the way Andrew spoke, that he disliked both Fence and Randolph. It was not at al clear that he disliked Celia; he sounded more as if he were commiserating with her for having to put up with their company. Did Andrew ever do anything except bait people? 
 	Celia said, â€œTheir other mentors are engaged, save Agatha. For that sheâ€™l have the care of mine own brood when I am gone, Iâ€™d thought to give them some days in one anotherâ€™s company. Thereby they may discover their grossest points of grievance while I am by to mend them.â€​par 	Ted saw that Andrew was not interested in this account, and that Celia knew he was not. He hoped she was enjoying herself. Her neat-boned face with its scarred forehead and uninformative eyes was as bland as custard. 
 	â€œYours do stay, then?â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œOf a certainty,â€ said Celia. â€œWherefore should they go?â€​par 	â€œWherefore should these?â€​aid Andrew. 
 	Celia looked at Ted in mild inquiry, as if Andrew had asked her what the flowers were in the jug in the middle of the table, and she thought Ted ought to know. 
 	
 	â€œI,â€ said Ted, clearing his throat, â€œam the King, and itâ€™s my duty to go. Not much of a King, you may say,â€ he added as Andrew opened his mouth, â€œbut the best youâ€™re going to get.â€​par 	This last remark seemed to him, on reflection, to be il -
 	advised; but it appeared to take Andrew aback. â€œA King with teeth,â€ Andrew said, without any sarcasm that Ted could detect. â€œMean you, my prince, to close them upon me?â€​par 	Ted had no idea what he meant. â€œNot,â€ he said, more or less at random, â€œif you stay outwith my range.â€​par 	â€œI am within it,â€ said Andrew, stil as if he spoke to an adult whom he took seriously, â€œby blood, by circumstance, and by appointment.â€​par 	Ted felt outmaneuvered, and thought before he spoke again. â€œTherefore,â€ he said, â€œthe range wherein Iâ€™l snap at you is lessened. It is your deeds, my lord, and not your coign of vantage, that wil determine if I snap at you.â€​par 	â€œI am wel warned,â€ said Andrew. He stood up. 
 	â€œCelia,â€ he said, â€œhave a care. Being children yet, they shal do damage though they wil it not. Farewel .â€ He looked thoughtful y into Celiaâ€™s steady eyes, bowed general y to al of them, and left. 
 	â€œTed!â€​aid El en. â€œWhat did he mean?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said Ted. â€œI donâ€™t even know what I meant.â€​par 	â€œNo, about doing damage.â€​par 	Laura said, â€œHe knows the Crystal of Earth got broken. I saw him looking at the pieces, on our way home from the battle.â€​par 	â€œBut does he know we did it?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWhat did you mean, Ted?â€​aid Laura. 
 	Ted took a deep breath, leaned an elbow on the crumby table, and looked at his sister. She had lost her left-hand hair ribbon; the right-hand one, a yel ow silk with black and scarlet flowers embroidered on it, had been retied by somebody with great vigor and little grace; probably El en. 
 	She had pastry crumbs on her forehead. She looked intent and a little worried, as she would when she made a mistake in a coloring book. 
 	â€œOkay,â€ said Ted. â€œWhen I told Andrew I was the best King he was going to get, I think he took it as a threat. 
 	So I tried to tel him how much of a threat I was.â€​par 	â€œOr how little?â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œDo you think,â€ said Ruth, â€œthat he knows you know heâ€™s a spy of the Dragon King?â€​par 	â€œI want a word with Fence, touching these matters,â€
 	said Celia. â€œCan you refrain from mischief these few hours?â€​par 	â€œDonâ€™t you think,â€ said Patrick, looking up from his plate, â€œthat youâ€™d better let us make mischief now so we can be good when weâ€™re traveling with you?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ 
 	said 
 	Celia, 
 	standing 
 	up 
 	again. 
 	â€œMeseemeth rather, an thou practiseth not thy goodness now, thouâ€™lt have no skil at it when most thou needst it. 
 	Good even.â€​he went out briskly in a bil ow of blue. 
 	â€œTouchÃ©c), Patrick,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	
 	â€œListen, al of you,â€ said Ted, very quietly. 
 	â€œAndrew thought it was a threat because he thinks I helped Randolph kil the King. If anybody finds out for sure Randolph did it, theyâ€™l have to deal with him; and we need Randolph. And Edward wil need him, if we restore Edward.â€​par 	â€œDo you think we wil ?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWe have to,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œHave toâ€™s harrow no fields,â€ said Patrick, in excel ent imitation of Benjamin. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t they?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	
 CHAPTER 12

 	LAURA knew she was dreaming. She had been here before. She trudged through knee-deep waves of crackling leaves, throwing up the scents of cinnamon and dust and dampness. It smel ed like Hal oween. The trees were huge, the light the color of clouds. She was looking for something. 
 	The last time she had dreamt so, she had spoken aloud to herself and woken up. She tried to do this again, but she could not make her voice work. 
 	She was going uphil , and the path under al these leaves was rocky. As she gained the top of the rise, a little sunlight sifted down between the great smooth trunks. Not far ahead of her the wood grew up against tal gray rocks spotted with moss and lichen, the lichen delicate as lace, the moss as green as beryls in the dul air. There was a cleft in the rocks. 
 	Laura walked forward among the wet leaves and looked through it. It was wide enough for three or four people to walk abreast, and not very long. A bar of sunlight sharp and vivid as a piece of yel ow silk fel halfway along its stone floor from the opening at the other end. 
 	Laura went quickly through the cleft and out the other side, onto a little lawn of short grass and goldenrod. Beyond this, the slope dropped very swiftly, and through ribbons of mist she saw a winding water laid out before her like a sleeping snake, striped with water-weed and bordered by tal , frondy plants with long purple flowers and whole clouds of goldenrod. 
 	There was a house on the other side of the water. Tile for red roof tile, window for leaded window, graceful front and awkward wing and gray stone and white and yel ow, it was a copy of the house at One Trumpet Street, Claudiaâ€™s house, the house that Laura and Ted had done their best to burn to the ground. 
 	â€œWe know who the copyist was, al right,â€ said Laura. And as she had both hoped and half feared, her own voice woke her. 
 	Laura sat up. Agatha had lit a lamp in the corner. El en, in her long white ruffled nightgown that could have passed for a fancy dress at home, was folding clothes and handing them to Agatha. The black cat sat at the end of the bed, upright like an Egyptian statue. It was chil y. A thin light came through the window, and a clean, wet smel , and the sound of rain. 
 	They were going to leave today. It would rain. 
 	â€œHi,â€​aid El en over her shoulder. 
 	â€œItâ€™s raining,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œDo you think Claudia did it?â€​par 	Laura made shushing gestures. Agatha turned around, plucked the half-folded shirt from El enâ€™s hands, and said, â€œFaugh!â€​par 	â€œWhy shouldnâ€™t it be Claudia?â€ said El en. 
 	â€œNobody knows where she is.â€​par 	Laura thought of her dream. But where was the twisty lake set about with goldenrod? She looked blankly at El en, who added, â€œAnd Fence agrees she made it cold and rainy last summer.â€​par 	â€œThose were unnatural rains,â€ said Agatha. 
 	â€œThat she cal ed them I doubt not. But this is a September storm after a spel of fine weather, as we see September storm after a spel of fine weather, as we see more years than not.â€ She put the pile of folded clothes into a leather bag that looked like a suitcase, except that you had to strap it up with strips of leather. â€œDrink your chocolate,â€ said Agatha, beginning this strapping. 
 	â€œAnd dress yourselves. Fence wil not stay for you.â€​par 	When they were packed and dressed to Agathaâ€™s satisfaction, the three of them went down to the Dragon Hal , where they found gathered al the members of both expeditions, eating voraciously and complaining about the weather. Benjamin was standing by the fireplace with Fence and Celia. Agatha made for them at once. Laura and El en slipped quietly along the wal to the sideboard furthest from Benjamin. They had not had to talk to him yet. Perhaps they could leave without having to, and when they returned everything would be fixed, and they would be heroes, not vil ains. 
 	They served themselves haphazardly and went to sit with Ted, Ruth, and Celia at their out-of-the-way table. Ted was dressed much as usual, but with a thick vest-like garment of dark blue wool over everything else. Celia was dressed like Ted; the menâ€™s clothing made her look tal er and much thinner. Ruth was actual y wearing something other than a white dress. She had put on several of her large shirts, and over them a black serape-like thing and a black wool skirt of generous dimensions. Lady Ruth must have been fatter than her counterpart. 
 	â€œYou think Claudia made it rain?â€ said El en, sitting down next to Ruth. 
 	â€œI know where she is,â€ said Laura, â€œbut it doesnâ€™t help.â€ She told them about it. Then she told them about her first dream. They found that more intriguing. 
 	
 	â€œBe sure and tel Fence,â€ said Ted. He thumped his mug down on the table. â€œHel ! I wish we knew what al this meant.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ruth, â€œthere are mountains in the south, where weâ€™re going. And there are evergreen forests in the north, where the rest of them are going. And I wouldnâ€™t advise anybody to sing â€˜ames James Morrison Morrison,â€™ unless youâ€™ve lost your flint and tinder.â€​par 	â€œI think,â€​aid Laura, â€œthat it was the flute.â€​par 	â€œWel , donâ€™t play it on the flute, then. Youâ€™re supposed to use that flute to communicate with, not to fool around.â€ Both this speech and the tone in which it was uttered were abnormal y cross for Ruth. Lauraâ€™s feelings were hurt. It seemed unfair to be taken to task for something you had done in a dream. She applied herself to her oatmeal. 
 	â€œThe fluteâ€™s to be played,â€​aid Celia, mildly. 
 	â€œSorry,â€ said Ruth. â€œI am not looking forward to this trip. Sorry, Laura.â€​par 	Laura felt better, but by the time she had swal owed her oatmeal and could say so, Patrick sat himself down at the end of the table and attacked his pile of food. He was dressed exactly as he had been when they first saw him in Australia, including the green pack, and the stocking-cap fal ing out of his jacket pocket. Now that, thought Laura, was stupid. They were supposed to be playing their parts, and Prince Patrick would never have worn any such garments. 
 	â€œWilt thou find that warm enough?â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œIâ€™ve got a cloak too,â€ said Patrick. He grinned at his older sister. â€œAny last-minute lectures?â€​par 	Ruth sat up straight and glowered at him; Celia looked ready to intervene to prevent violence; and Ted said, â€œYes.â€​par 	Patrick looked at him with interest, and with neither fear nor affront that Laura could see. Ted went on. â€œPatrick, you are pushing things right to the edge. Fence is going to hate that outfit. You can get what you deserve, as far as Iâ€™m concerned. But I bid you remember that you are the oldest of us in your party. I make you responsible for the wel -being of your little sister and my little sister. And youâ€™l answer to the King of the Hidden Land, not to your cousin, if anything happens to either of them that you could have prevented.â€​par 	This speech aroused more indignation in El en than in Patrick. Laura, when El en caught her eye with an exasperated face, shook her head hard and pointed her spoon at Patrick. El en should realize that Tedâ€™s purpose was to prevent Patrickâ€™s doing what Patrick did best. Asking Patrick to take care of Laura and El en was not an insult to them. 
 	Patrick seemed less than pleased, and then he grinned. 
 	â€œYouâ€™ve real y got it down pat, havenâ€™t you?â€
 	he said. â€œYour Majesty.â€ He said that with an inclination of his head just short of sarcastic. 
 	â€œItâ€™s easy when you know how,â€ said Ted, peaceably. This line had been a joke between the two of them for an entire summer. Laura had never figured it out, but it could stil make Patrick laugh. He did laugh. Laura stopped worrying about what trouble he might get into, and began wondering what it would be like to be under his merciless supervision. Wel , at least she wouldnâ€™t drown. She might not even fal off her horse. 
 	Celia got up abruptly. â€œSay your farewel s,â€ she said. 
 	â€œWeâ€™l leave anon.â€​par 	The five of them sat and looked at one another. Laura was no longer worried, but she felt depressed. They had always been together in the Secret Country. The Hidden Land was separating them. 
 	â€œLaura,â€ said Ted, â€œdonâ€™t kil yourself, and donâ€™t forget to tel Fence al your visions. El en, donâ€™t you get yourself kil ed pretending you can do anything.â€​par 	â€œRuth,â€ said El en, â€œdonâ€™t forget to practice your flute.â€​par 	â€œAnd donâ€™t get al mushy,â€ said Patrick to Ruth. 
 	â€œNo misadventured piteous overthrows.â€​par 	â€œFear me not,â€ said Ruth, with the utmost seriousness. â€œI had rather hear my dog bark at a crow.â€ Patrick stared at her, and she grinned. â€œItâ€™l come to you,â€​he said. 
 	Laura gave them a moment to explain themselves, and then said to Ted, â€œDonâ€™t kil Lord Randolph.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t intend to,â€ said Ted. He stood up. 
 	â€œHave we delivered our instructions al around? 
 	Letâ€™s go, then.â€​par 	Andrewâ€™s party, the embassy to the Dragon King, was leaving from the main door of High Castle. Fenceâ€™s party, which was smal er and burdened with less baggage, would be departing from a little postern that gave onto Stil manâ€™s Wood. High Castle was fond of ceremonies of leave-taking, and of conducting matters in their proper order; the greater embassy was seen off first. Everybody in Andrewâ€™s party, everybody in Fenceâ€™s, and a great many who were staying home, jostled through High Castleâ€™s three sets of gates: across the paved yard shining with rain; through the gardens, with their drooping roses and their bare, muddy patches where the beans had been pul ed up; over the moat al pocked and dimpled with raindrops; across the drenched grass, where Andrewâ€™s party stopped to col ect its horses; through the roofless, pink-paved tunnel to the last gate, and outside. 
 	It was pouring. Ted came up to Laura where she crouched against the wal with El en. â€œStand under the archway of the gate,â€ he said, rather irritably. He pul ed El enâ€™s hair, gave Laura a very hard hug that almost undid her, and disappeared into the surging crowd. 
 	Laura swal owed with great force and pretended it was the rain making her eyes hurt. She and El en moved back under the archway, where one was subjected to large, discrete drips instead of a steady sheet of water. They almost col ided with Ruth. 
 	â€œOh, good,â€ Ruth said. Her fuzzy black hair was misted with damp and stood out in al directions except straight up. â€œEl en, behave, and donâ€™t kil Patrick, weâ€™d never be able to explain it to Mom and Daddy. 
 	Laura, donâ€™t you kil him either. Your father likes him.â€
 	She knelt in the soaking grass, hugged each of them with one arm, stood up with mud on Lady Ruthâ€™s black skirt, and said, â€œDonâ€™t you dare cry. Al may yet be very wel .â€​nd she, too, made for the center of the confusion. 
 	â€œMake way!â€​al ed a voice from inside. 
 	
 	Laura and El en looked around and saw several wagons rumbling over the drawbridge. With one accord they darted back through the tunnel, ran along the inner side of the pink wal , and took shelter in the overhang of the nearest tower. 
 	The wagons went ponderously by them, mud clogging the red and yel ow paint of their wheels, the rain sheeting off the leather covers tied lumpily over their contents. Laura and El en, shivering, stayed where they were, and thus missed whatever ceremony Andrew departed from High Castle with, and did not say good-bye to Randolph. Laura didnâ€™t care. Her hair was dripping down the back of her neck, inside al the layers of good dry clothes, and they had not even begun their own journey. 
 	She looked at El en, whose pale face was beaded with water and whose hair was so wet that it was almost flat. 
 	â€œThe rain it raineth every day,â€​aid Princess Laura. 
 	
 CHAPTER 13

 	TED belatedly pul ed his hood over his dripping head and pushed through the crowd. On the way he passed the blue-clad trumpeters with their horns as long as a yardstick. He must have missed whatever leave-taking ceremony there had been. Andrew and Randolph were already mounted. 
 	Benjamin was holding the reins of Andrewâ€™s horse and talking to him intently. Fence was holding the reins of the unoccupied horse, an inoffensive-looking white one that was not Prince Edwardâ€™s stal ion and should suit Ted much better than that cantankerous beast. Randolph was holding his own reins. Fence was looking at Randolph, and neither of them was saying anything. 
 	â€œDoes it always do this in September?â€ said Ted, coming up behind Fence. 
 	Fence turned, a little twitchily. He had put a black cloak of thick felt on over his wizardâ€™s robe, and its hood hid his face. His voice was as usual. â€œNot so early as this,â€ he said. He nodded at the horse. â€œThis oneâ€™s fast but biddable.â€​par 	â€œThank 
 	you,â€ 
 	said 
 	Ted. 
 	Itâ€”she, 
 	he
 	ascertainedâ€”might be biddable, but she was stil extremely large, and Benjamin was here. He thought of Edward and mounted competently. 
 	â€œI wish you were coming with us,â€​ed said to the top of Fenceâ€™s hood. It had a little tassel on it, like the ones on the seniorsâ€™ graduation caps. 
 	Fence tilted his head; the hood fel back, and Fence produced a rather unconvincing grin. â€œIâ€™m better with the young ones,â€ he said. â€œAnd with yon Patrickâ€™s meddlings. Youâ€™l be wel enough. Randolph hath promised it.â€​par 	That word was a dangerous one just now. Ted looked over at Randolph, who wiped the rain out of his eyes and said, â€œFence, no more.â€​par 	Fence looked startled and then rueful. â€œNay, I cry you mercy,â€ he said. â€œThat was il done, in Ruthâ€™s chamber.â€​par 	â€œIt was as wel done as may be,â€ said Randolph, with extreme grimness. â€œWherefore I say to you, lean not on me.â€​par 	â€œThereâ€™s no one else,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Randolph smiled at him, with a perfect naturalness that made Ted feel cold. â€œAnd that was ever the doom upon us,â€​e said. 
 	Fence held his gaze and said nothing. Randolph gradual y stopped smiling, until he looked very sober indeed, but neither chagrined nor angry. Ted, his burning eyes braced wide open, felt something hotter than the beating rain slide down his face, but could not look away. 
 	â€œRest you merry,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œNot until thou art,â€ said Fence. He reached up a hand. Randolph gathered the reins in his left hand, leaned down, and closed his right hand over Fenceâ€™s wrist. Ted blinked, since no one was regarding him, and looked down at the mareâ€™s ears. 
 	â€œSo, then,â€ said Fence; his voice trembled a little, and if Ted could have escaped without being noticed, he would have been gone. As it was, he sat stil , and the mare was quiet under him, and the rain slid down the coarse, pale hair of her mane like beads on a broken string. Randolph was silent, and Fence said, â€œAs wel cut off mine own hand. As wel have done the deed. An thou but keep safe, we shal yet read this riddle.â€​par 	â€œI can read it,â€ said Randolph; his tone had sharpened, and Ted looked up involuntarily. â€œIt means death,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œThat is a faulty reading,â€ said Fence, quite steadily this time. â€œEdward being dead, this is a matter to settle between us. Not in solitude. Dost thou understand me?â€​par 	â€œOh, aye,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œAnd wilt obey?â€​par 	â€œHow not?â€ said Randolph, and let go of Fenceâ€™s hand. 
 	Fence came back to Ted. â€œBe not oâ€™er-hasty,â€
 	he said. â€œWeâ€™l meet again.â€ And he pul ed the hood over his head again and went away through the crowd, back into High Castle. 
 	Ted would not have looked at Randolph for anything. He careful y pul ed the mare around until his back was to Randolph and he was looking at Andrewâ€™s profile. 
 	Andrew was staring down his straight nose at Benjamin, and Benjamin was glaring back. Ted did not want to know what they had been saying; but he might need to. He started to speak, and stopped. He had managed to avoid an encounter with Benjamin so far; what was the point in saying good-bye when you had not yet said hel o? He tried to back the horse, but either she felt stubborn or he hadnâ€™t given her the right signals. She moved neatly three steps to the left, bringing her head level with Benjaminâ€™s, and Benjamin put his hand on her nose and looked up at Ted. 
 	Benjamin couldnâ€™t say anything much in front of Andrew, of course; and, to Tedâ€™s relief, he managed to school his face as wel . â€œI wish you were coming with us,â€ Ted said, and immediately regretted it. In the first place it wasnâ€™t true, and in the second it probably constituted an insult to Andrew. 
 	Benjamin rubbed the mareâ€™s head; then he rummaged inside his cloak and came out with two pieces of carrot, and fed one to each horse. Over the sound of crunching he said, â€œMy prince, I wish so also. But consider High Castle in the grip of Celiaâ€™s children, and none to say them nay.â€​par 	Ted could not help grinning. â€œWe couldnâ€™t have that, could we?â€ He thought, and ventured, â€œProsper wel , then.â€​par 	â€œAnd you,â€ said Benjamin. He looked at Andrew. 
 	â€œFare wel , my lord,â€​e said, and left them. 
 	Andrew gazed after him with a less than pleased expression. It occurred to Ted that he and Andrew were going to have to endure one anotherâ€™s company for several weeks. He said, â€œWas Benjamin haranguing you?â€​par 	Andrew whipped his head around so fast that a strand of wet hair fel over his forehead. Ted could not tel if he was angry, or just startled. â€œNot above the usual,â€ said Andrew, in his pleasant, neutral voice. 
 	So much for that, thought Ted. He looked over his shoulder for Randolph, but Randolph wasnâ€™t there. Ted scanned the crowd, which had diminished greatly, probably because of the rain. Randolph was over by the wagons, talking to the little cluster of soldiers that Andrew had chosen to accompany the embassy. One of them rode off a little way and then waited; the wagons fol owed, each with a soldier riding beside it. Andrew moved his horse off after the wagons, and so did Randolph. 
 	Ted and Ruth fol owed them. The white horse had a nice gait; Ted blessed whoever had thought to give her to him, and spared some attention for the rain-sodden plain. 
 	Nothing moved in the brown grass. The road was covered with a thin layer of water, but there was no mud, and the horsesâ€™ hooves sounded on it as sharply as on concrete. Patrick would have wondered what technology had produced such a surface on what looked like a dirt road. Ted was merely grateful for it. He sat up straighter and wiped the rain off his face. 
 	Ruth cal ed across to him, â€œWith an host of furious fancies Whereof I am commander, / With a burning spearâ€”â€​par 	â€œAnd a horse of air,â€ Ted answered her, out of his own memory, â€œTo the wilderness I wanderâ€”â€​par 	â€œBy a knight of ghosts and shadows,â€ said Andrewâ€™s clear, carrying voice, to Tedâ€™s immense discomfiture, â€œI summoned am to tourney / Ten leagues beyond the wide worldâ€™s end. / Methinks it is no journey.â€​par 	There was a brief silence, and it began to rain harder. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Andrew, who had fal en back and was now riding on the other side of Ruth, â€œwe go not even half so far as that.â€​par 	â€œThank God,â€ said Ruth, in the dry voice she had never used to use, â€œfor smal favors.â€​par 	Andrew looked vaguely puzzled. Ted said nothing. This was the long, straight road that led to the Wel of the White Witch, and Claudiaâ€™s house, to the mountains of the border and through them, south and west to the lands of the Dragon King. And to the Gray Lake. There, in some sense, Ted thought suddenly, was the wide worldâ€™s end. Or at least Edward thought so. Ted wished that Edward would either come in or go out; this hanging around with the door open was disconcerting. Edward promptly faded out. Ted put his hood back on. 
 	Â 
 	Laura and El en waited until they saw Fence come back through the pink tunnel. His face was not encouraging; they fel in a few feet behind him and were quiet. He led them to the little postern in the southeast corner from which the five of them had escaped their first day in this country. There was a great clutter of horses and baggage and mil ing people. Patrick was there, leaning on the damp pink wal and watching the chaos as if it were a movie for which he was considering requesting the return of his money. 
 	Matthew was putting saddlebags on the horses and doing, Laura thought, a very good job of pretending that his youngest son, Mark, was helping. John real y was helping Margaret with the same task. Benjamin moved from horse to horse, talking to them. They were remarkably quiet for horses in such a turmoil. 
 	Fence went up to Benjamin and began walking around with him, talking also, but not, from his tone, to the horses. 
 	Laura made sure that the two bags Agatha had packed for her and El en were there. She wondered if only the six of them were going, or if there would be men-at-arms. She knew nothing of the lands east and north of the Hidden Land, and very little about what dangers might lurk in the Hidden Land itself. The Hidden Land had not seemed, on their journey south for the battle, to be very heavily populated; but neither had there been bears or wolves or even any deer. Maybe there would be deer in the north, and, if they traveled quietly, they would see some. 
 	It began to rain harder. Matthew came over to them, his fair skin flushed and the red hair sticking to his brow. 
 	â€œIs anybody else coming with us?â€ asked Laura. 
 	She realized that this was not what her fifth-grade teacher would have cal ed a clearly phrased remark, but Matthew seemed to understand. 
 	â€œNo,â€ he said. â€œWe must go swiftly; and the librarians of Heathwil frown on parties oâ€™er-large.â€​par 	â€œArenâ€™t there bandits?â€​aid El en. 
 	Matthew laughed. â€œIn Fenceâ€™s Country?â€ he said. 
 	â€œWel , but before we get there?â€​par 	Matthew laughed again, a little more exasperatedly. 
 	â€œNone,â€ he said. â€œThere are farmers and traveling merchants.â€​par 	â€œWhy?â€​aid El en; she was disappointed. 
 	â€œBecause,â€ said Matthew, kneeling in a puddle without seeming to notice it, and looking first El en and then Laura soberly in the face, â€œthat is the country of the unicorns, where even the innocent may come to grief. The guilty have no more joy there than a lump of butter in a hot pan.â€​par 	
 	â€œMatthew!â€ said El en, and Laura saw on her face a look of unholy glee, like the one she had had the day she let al Ted and Patrickâ€™s frogs loose. â€œAre we going to travel through the Enchanted Forest?â€​par 	â€œThy geography is without fault,â€ said Matthew. 
 	â€œNow mind thy face.â€​par 	He stood up and returned to the packing. Everything was loaded, including the people, and Celia stil had not arrived. 
 	Mark, John, and Margaret hung around looking glum. 
 	Benjamin stood behind them looking glummer. Matthew dismounted twice to tel them good-bye. Laura sat behind Patrick on a black horse with one white leg. Patrickâ€™s pack was going to bump her under the chin once they started, but it was stil better than riding a horse by herself. 
 	The rain had settled into a steady drizzle that seemed capable of going on al day and got you much wetter than it looked as if it could. 
 	Celia final y came trudging over the pink paving, lugging a bulging, misshapen pack. She hugged her three offspring, and said something to them that Laura couldnâ€™t hear. 
 	They nodded, resignedly, and opened the little door of the postern. Celia patted Benjamin on the shoulder and swung briskly onto her horse. 
 	They rode out the postern one by one, Celia, Patrick and Laura, El en, and Matthew, who was leading the pony with the luggage. Laura turned and waved, and the three yel ow-haired children whose parents she was stealing waved dutiful y back. Laura had thought, the first time she saw them, that they looked just as children in a fairy tale ought to look; and they stil did, even wet and gloomy-faced. Behind them, Benjamin raised his hand and waved too; Laura felt absurdly better. The three children disappeared behind the door and slammed it. Laura heard the bolt snick shut, and felt desolate. She turned around, and hit her nose on Patrickâ€™s pack. 
 	They rode down a long, shal ow slope toward the edge of Stil manâ€™s Wood. It bordered on the Enchanted Forest, but did not itself look enchanted, or at least not in any appealing way. Its oaks were a dark, grim green that the wet only made worse. The beeches had been a pleasant coppery color al week in the sunlight, but now looked like dried blood. They rode along the edge of the woods until Celia found the path. It was narrow and clogged with ragged brown leaves, which, stirred up by the horsesâ€™s hooves, smel ed musty. 
 	The dul spaces of the woods were misty with rain. Laura remembered her dreams with longing. Either of them had been better than this. They rode on further. Laura began to think she recognized this stretch of path. They had come this way for the Kingâ€™s funeral. It had rained then too. 
 	Behind them, Matthew began to whistle, and the words slid upward from the bottom of Lauraâ€™s mind. O
 	 Westron wind, when wilt thou blow, the small rain down can rain? 
 	But that was for spring, thought Laura; and this was autumn. 
 	
 CHAPTER 14

 	WHEN the army of the Hidden Land had come south in August, it had stopped at the Wel of the White Witch for a ceremony. Ted assumed, without thinking about it, that his party would do likewise. But the horses and wagons ahead of him went on by the Wel , which sat squatly in the sad, wet grasses, its lid tightly in place, its pink stone darkened with rain, and glowed not at al . Ted looked to his right, through the trees, to where Claudiaâ€™s house loomed. Its gray stone wal s were muted by the rain, and its red tile roofs showed sharply against the dark forest and the pale sky. 
 	There was a light in the window of the smal er tower. Ted reined his horse abruptly, and she responded with a very good grace. â€œRuth!â€ said Ted. Ruth pul ed her horse to a stop; Andrew stopped too. They sat there in a row, al looking sideways. Randolph rode up beside Ted. 
 	â€œLook,â€​aid Ted, and looked, himself, at Randolph. 
 	Randolph stared past Ted and Ruth and Andrew, and his eyes opened wide, in an expression of startlement very unlike him. â€œShanâ€™s mercy,â€ he said. â€œWhat sorcery is this?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™ve never seen a light in that house,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œHadnâ€™t we better take a look?â€​par 	Randolph, his astonished gaze stil on that vivid yel ow line high up in the dark of the woods, said, â€œThou art the King. If thou shouldst choose to delay thy embassy in searching out this riddle, who shal gainsay thee?â€​par 	â€œWel , youâ€™d better stop the rest of them before they disappear,â€ said Ted, not entirely pleased to have had his question answered with another. Randolph rode off. 
 	â€œGood grief,â€ said Ruth, in a voice where Ted heard exasperation warring with nerves, â€œdidnâ€™t anybody think to search here, after Claudia disappeared?â€​par 	â€œOh, aye,â€ said Andrew. â€œFence did order the lords Jerome and Julian to do so; but they found nothing.â€​par 	Randolph came back, fol owed by the wagons and the little clump of men-at-arms. The latter began dismounting. 
 	â€œI have given orders, my prince,â€ said Randolph to Ted, â€œthat food be prepared. Who shal accompany thee?â€​par 	â€œYou,â€ said Ted. â€œAnd Ruth and Andrew.â€ He hesitated. â€œDo you think men-at-arms would do us any good?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Randolph, â€œbut thou mightst do them good to ask them.â€​par 	â€œOkay, find two, could you please?â€​par 	Randolph dismounted; so, after a pause, did Ted and Ruth and Andrew. Some of the soldiers came up and took their horses. Two of them bowed to Ted and intimated that they were at his service. One of them had a mal ow embroidered on his sash; he had been in the battle. His name was Stephen, that was it; it was he who had told Ted that Conrad was sore hurt. He was tal , thin, fair, and amiable-looking. The other was a young woman with a peony on her sash. She was a stocky person with sleek brown hair who seemed nothing like a peony. 
 	They al stood expectantly and looked at Ted. He felt like Captain Kirk at the outset of some hazardous mission, which did not help in the least. â€œThis is a sorcerer we cal upon,â€ he said, â€œbut, should she prove troublesome, remember that a goodly anger can break a spel of stil ness, and that, do you move quickly enough, she can be surprised with simple force.â€ That was al he knew that might prove useful, and magic probably didnâ€™t make these people half as nervous as it made him. â€œLetâ€™s go,â€ said Ted, and started up the hil . They fol owed him. 
 	As he stopped at the little wooden bridge, Ruth caught him up. â€œJust how goodly an anger?â€​he said, quietly. 
 	â€œVery goodly,â€ said Ted. â€œRemember the time Ophelia had kittens on your green velvet dress.â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™re on the wrong track,â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œThat was profound sorrow, tempered by an awful desire to laugh.â€​par 	â€œYou couldâ€™ve fooled me,â€ said Ted, only half attending. He was discovering in himself a craven desire not to go one step nearer that house. He and Laura had burned it down, in Il inois. He wondered if he would have to burn it down here, and on the shores of the twisty lake Laura had seen in her dream; he wondered how many such houses there were, and if Claudia would await him in each one, with her husky voice and her matter-of-fact recital of the things she had done and her offer to al ow him to help her go on doing them. He had not been tempted, but he might be next time; and, quite apart from anything she might be able to do to him, he was afraid of her. 
 	The rest of his party came up behind them. Ted turned around and gestured at Randolph, who came forward. â€œI might feel happier with a few drawn swords,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œAs you wil ,â€​aid Randolph, and drew his. 
 	
 	The Peony and the Mal ow looked at each other, and drew theirs also. Tedâ€™s was in his baggage. He started abruptly across the bridge, the rest of them clattering hol owly behind. Having crossed, they were obliged to go single-file along the narrow space between the edge of the stream and the beginning of the brush. The haphazard undergrowth gave way to the hedge, and Ted found with no trouble the gap one could crawl under. 
 	â€œI wonder,â€ he said, â€œif it would be better to use the gate.â€​par 	â€œItâ€™d be more dignified, certainly,â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œBut the gateâ€™s been locked whenever we looked.â€​par 	â€œI keep the key of it,â€ said Andrewâ€™s precise voice, from somewhere behind Randolph and the Peony. 
 	Ted looked up at Ruth, whose face was as surprised as he felt. Ted leaned around Ruth to examine Randolphâ€™s reaction. Randolph was astonished, so it was probably safe to ask questions. â€œBy whose leave?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œBy King Wil iamâ€™s,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	That surprised Randolph too. There was something in Andrewâ€™s voice that warned Ted to be careful. â€œDo you keep it for me also,â€ he said. â€œBut now, of your gracious wil , lend the use of it to me.â€ That last sentence he got from Edward; it was the way in which the King asked for things nobody had the right to deny him. 
 	The key was on a silver chain that looked too fragile to hold it. The chain was warm; Andrew had probably been wearing it around his neck. The key was wrought iron with a tree-and-leaf pattern, like the gate, and as cold as clay. Ted walked along the hedge to the brick arch with the gate in it and fitted the key into the lock. It turned silently, and the gate, as heavy as it looked, moved inward before he began to lean on it. Ted hastily pul ed the key out of the lock, and the gate went on swinging until it bumped gently into the hedge. 
 	The blue-gray flagstones of the walk, swept clean of their maple seeds, were slick with rain. 
 	â€œHow about somebody with a sword up here?â€
 	cal ed Ted. 
 	Randolph, Ruth, and Ted walked together up the flagstone path to the steps of the porch, fol owed by the others. Ted did not remember very clearly the porch of the Il inois house: he and Laura had walked up to it not because they wanted to but because Claudiaâ€™s spel had made them. But this porch seemed tidier than that one. It was newly painted, in a pleasant red that matched the roof. 
 	He climbed the steps and went across the porch. The double doors were carved around their edges with the same old story. The right-hand one had an iron knocker in the shape of a catâ€™s head. The ring in its teeth with which you hit the door was, Ted discovered as he dropped it against the wood, actual y a very long, thin, iron rat with its tail in its mouth. 
 	â€œCute,â€​e said to Ruth. 
 	â€œVerily,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Nobody answered the knock. Ted looked up at Randolph and said, â€œIâ€™m not sure why I think we ought to be polite. Shal we just go in?â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™ve given fair warning,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ted put both hands on the damp wood of the doors, and pushed. They opened as easily as the gate had, and a warm gust of cinnamon-scented air swept out onto the dripping porch. Claudiaâ€™s other house smel ed like this too. Ted said to Randolph, â€œShould we leave somebody to guard the front door?â€​par 	Randolph, maddeningly, did not answer him. Ted looked at the Peony and the Mal ow. Stephen, the Mal ow, looked hopeful, as if he were curious about the house. On the other hand, Ted didnâ€™t know the Peonyâ€™s name. 
 	â€œStephen,â€ he said, â€œwil you forego this exploration and guard the door?â€​par 	Stephen bowed, smiling, and went to stand on the steps. 
 	Ted walked into Claudiaâ€™s front hal , and Ruth and Randolph and Andrew and the Peony came with him. There was a perfectly standard Oriental rug on the polished floor. 
 	Before them on the left was a narrow flight of steps, carpeted in red, and on the right the long hal hung with odd dark pictures down which Claudia had led Ted and Laura, in another house. 
 	â€œI think,â€ said Ted, in response to a kind of stirring at the back of his mind, â€œthat to get to the smal er tower we go up the stairway as far as we may, bearing always to the left.â€ He looked at Randolph. â€œYouâ€™re my general; why donâ€™t you make the dispositions?â€​par 	â€œAs you wil ,â€ said Randolph; he did not, to Tedâ€™s relief, sound displeased. Nor did Andrew or the Peony look as if Ted had said anything out of the way. 
 	Andrew, on second glance, did not look as if he had heard anything since he stepped inside. He seemed to be listening for something behind the voices and the drip of rain and the profound stil ness of the house; and he looked as if al the hair on the back of his neck were standing on end. 
 	
 	Ted wondered how much Andrew knew about his own sister, and whether he was fond of her. He wasnâ€™t sure he could imagine anybody at al being fond of Claudia. Even Randolph had implied that he was not so much fond of as bewitched by her. 
 	They had to go up the narrow stairs one at a time. They passed three landings, al with little square windows having a border in red stained glass alternating with clear, with an occasional clump of grapes or stylized flowers. On the fourth floor the stairs let them into a wide hal way lined with open doors. It was dusty up here; Ruth sneezed, Ted said, â€œBless you,â€ and Randolph looked at him sharply before going through the nearest door on the left. This room was empty, and had another door at the far end of its left-hand wal , which proved to lead to an even steeper and narrower flight of steps. The steps ended in a trapdoor. 
 	Randolph heaved the trapdoor open, maneuvering his sword into such a position that he had some chance of slicing anybody who might try to come down. The flat slap of the door on the floor above died in its echoes, and the echoes dwindled, and they could hear the rain hitting the roof of the tower. There was no other sound, except for everybodyâ€™s breathing. The light fal ing through the square in the floor was a very rich yel ow, mel ower than sunlight and stronger than lamplight. It fel on Ruthâ€™s upturned, intent face and made minute, sparkling globes out of every raindrop in her hair. It was cold up here at the top of the house. 
 	â€œOh, no,â€ said Ted. â€œRuth. The color of the light.â€​par 	â€œOh, good grief,â€​aid Ruth. â€œIt canâ€™t be.â€​par 	
 	â€œRandolph,â€​aid Ted. â€œCan we come up?â€​par 	Randolph, without answering or looking around, heaved himself through the opening. There was a clattering thump, presumably his sword being dropped on the floor. Just as Ted began to worry, Randolphâ€™s head reappeared, outlined in gold, and he reached a hand back through the trapdoor to help Ruth, who stared at it dumbly. 
 	â€œGo on, â€​aid Ted under his breath. 
 	Ruth took Randolphâ€™s hand, which she probably didnâ€™t need, and disappeared into the room above. Ted clambered up the last ten steps, pul ed himself onto the floor, stood up, took two steps sideways to leave space for the rest of the party, and looked at the contents of the room. 
 	There were two wooden benches with arms carved like dragonsâ€™ heads, a purple rug worked with blue and green dragons, and a round oak table that supported an enormous globe sparkling with motes of color and shot through with miniature lightnings. The globe was much bigger than the one in High Castle. 
 	â€œJesus!â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t swear,â€ said Ruth, â€œyouâ€™re getting as bad as Patrick.â€​par 	â€œShanâ€™s mercy!â€ said the Peony, scrambling to her feet behind Andrew. In that light the polished blade of her sword was the color of honey. She looked horrified. 
 	â€œMy lords! How came this here?â€​par 	â€œThat,â€​aid Randolph, â€œis the question.â€​par 	â€œNo, it isnâ€™t,â€ said Ted, without in the least meaning to. â€œThat isnâ€™t the Crystal of Earth.â€​par 	â€œHow do you know?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	
 	â€œLook at it,â€ said Ted, and when instead she went on looking at him with every evidence of exasperation, he mouthed â€œEdwardâ€ at her. Ruth turned obediently and stared at the shining globe. 
 	â€œItâ€™s larger than the one in High Castle,â€ she admitted. 
 	â€œBut of the same fashion otherwise,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œNo, not quite,â€ said Ted, having consulted the back o f his mind. â€œIsnâ€™t the light yel ower? And the other one wasnâ€™t soâ€”so active, was it? I donâ€™t remember al that lightning.â€​par 	â€œStil ,â€ said the Peony, without lowering her sword, â€œwhat manner of thing is this?â€​par 	â€œBreak it, and find out,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	Ruth turned on him, pushing her hair out of her eyes with one hand and flourishing the other at him as if he were a dog that was about to jump up on her. â€œYou sound just like Patrick!â€​he said. 
 	â€œItâ€™s not a completely crazy idea,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œIf the one in High Castle is the real thing, then breaking this one wonâ€™t destroy the Hidden Land. And this is in Claudiaâ€™s house, and itâ€™s the second of something thereâ€™s supposed to be only one of.â€​par 	â€œ If the one in High Castle is the real thing,â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œMy Lord Randolph?â€ said Ted, again without meaning to. Edward, damn his eyes, must have been accustomed to getting sorcerous advice from Randolph when Fence wasnâ€™t available. 
 	
 	Randolph was silent for so long that Ted wanted to repeat the question, but he was afraid to. Final y Randolph said, â€œThere are five signs whereby one may know the Crystal of Earth. These are the color of it, the shape of it, its texture, its place of abiding, and that which showeth in its depths when the ful moon shines upon it.â€​par 	â€œLovely,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the color of it supposed to be?â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œAs the apples of Feren,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ruth fished in the pocket of her skirt and pul ed out one of the little hard yel ow apples that had come into season just as the five of them tried to leave the Hidden Land. â€œLike this?â€​par 	â€œThat is an apple of Feren,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ruth gave Ted a look compounded of relief and resignation, and held the apple up. â€œWel ?â€​aid she. 
 	â€œHow can you tel ?â€ said Ted. â€œThat light colors everything.â€​par 	â€œThis is profoundly sil y,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œThe method may be so,â€ said Randolph. â€œThe results are far other.â€ He looked around at them. â€œAn it please you, my lady, give Andrew the apple. My lord, you have a fine eye for color. Wil you look on this globe, and descending view the apple in some other light, and return to us with your verdict?â€​par 	â€œWel , if none of you wil play at chess the nonce,â€
 	said Andrew, smiling, â€œthis game likes me as wel as another.â€ He took the little apple from Ruthâ€™s unresisting hand, crossed the room with his graceful walk, so like his sisterâ€™s, and disappeared down the steps. 
 	â€œWhat next?â€​aid Ted. â€œThe shape of it? Itâ€™s round. Soâ€™s the other one. What about texture?â€​par 	â€œThe Crystal of Earth,â€ said Randolph, â€œthough it appeareth as glass or crystal to the eye, and is cal ed so, is yet to the hand like unto a piece of fine velvet.â€​par 	Ruth caught Tedâ€™s attention and rol ed her eyes heavenward. Ted did not respond; he had suddenly remembered how the panes of Claudiaâ€™s window had given before his avenging hand like cloth, not glass. He walked forward to the round table, and cautiously put out his hand. The globe did not seem to have an edge at al ; but about two feet in from the spot where the yel ow glow faded into the weird sparkling air of the room, his hand encountered a surface that was indeed like cloth. It was nothing like velvet, but had rather the sleek, soft feel of silk. 
 	Ted looked over his shoulder at Randolph, and Randolph came forward and laid his own hand on the globe. 
 	â€œSilk,â€​aid he. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s what I thought. Wel , whatâ€™s the next thing? The place of its abiding?â€​par 	â€œThat is the North Tower of High Castle.â€​par 	Ted cal ed up a view of the house to his mindâ€™s eye, and groaned. â€œThis is a north tower,â€ he said, â€œbut this isnâ€™t High Castle. Wel , whatâ€™s next?â€​par 	â€œThe ful moon,â€​aid Ruth, in tones of disgust. 
 	â€œThere is a ful moon tonight,â€​aid the Peony. 
 	â€œIf the rain stoppeth,â€ said Randolph, looking thoughtful. 
 	
 	â€œI thought this embassy had a certain urgency about it,â€​aid Ruth. â€œDo we have time to hang around testing dubious magical artifacts by methods that are, to say the least, extremely subjective?â€​par 	â€œNow you sound like Patrick,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œPatrick may be a jerk, but his principles are not invariably wrong,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œThis artifact,â€ said Randolph, saying the word as if he rather liked it, â€œis a matter, on account of what its action on the world may be, far more urgent than this our embassy.â€​par 	Ruthâ€™s face took on the most obstinate expression of which it was capable. Ted had seen it only once or twice. He had opened his mouth to forestal whatever she might be going to say, when the sound of Andrew returning distracted al of them. Andrew put his head over the edge of the trapdoor. â€œThe light that this globe giveth,â€ he said, â€œhath a more warm and golden nature than the tint of the apple.â€​par 	â€œOur thanks to you,â€ said Randolph. â€œNow, my lady, do but consider.â€​par 	â€œWhat should I consider? At least two of your signs donâ€™t match this object, so why should we hang around on the off chance that the sky wil clear?â€​par 	â€œIf this be not the Crystal of Earth,â€ said Randolph, â€œit is yet something like, and therefore, it may be, a most potent force for good or il . If to damage it ruineth not the Hidden Land, it may yet ruin some land other.â€​par 	â€œHe means, Ruthie,â€ said Ted, â€œthat itâ€™s a dangerous thing to leave lying about.â€​par 	
 	â€œAnd suppose Claudia left it here just to delay us?â€​par 	Randolph, looking suddenly very tired, opened his mouth; and Ted realized that they did not have to argue. He was the King. â€œWeâ€™d better stay,â€​e said. 
 	Ruth gave him a betrayed and furious look. He met it, with some difficulty, while he said, â€œRandolph, could you go get the rest of them and tel them to stop whatever theyâ€™re doing? We might as wel use the kitchen, and be in out of the wet.â€​par 	â€œAs Your Majesty wil s it,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Randolph shepherded Andrew and the Peony back down the steps. The sounds of their feet grew faint and stopped, and Ted and Ruth went on staring at each other. She looked unnervingly like Randolph. The yel ow light of the globe showed little gleams of red in her hair and made her eyes the color of new leaves. It did not soften her expression. 
 	â€œCome on,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œSuppose Claudia left it here just toâ€”â€​par 	â€œOkay, she might have. But it doesnâ€™t exist just to delay us. Itâ€™s too like the real thing. I think it has powers.â€​par 	â€œWel , leave somebody to guard it, or send back to High Castle for Meredith to deal with it.â€​par 	â€œRuth, itâ€™s just one night. The Dragon King expects us anytime before winter.â€​par 	â€œIt makes me extremely nervous,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œNot investigating would make me extremely nervous.â€​par 	â€œAnd youâ€™re the King.â€​par 	
 	â€œWel ,â€​aid Ted, â€œIâ€™m afraid I am.â€​par 	Ruth heaved a deep sigh. She no longer looked angry, or obstinate, but her face was very sober. â€œThou wouldst not think,â€ she said, â€œhow il al â€™s here about my heart.â€​par 	Ted decided to take a risk. â€œBut it is no matter?â€​par 	Ruth made an angry gesture, and then suddenly smiled at him. â€œIt is but foolery,â€ she said. â€œBut it is such a kind of gaingiving as would perhaps trouble a woman.â€​par 	Ted said, and meant it, â€œIf your mind dislike anything, obey it.â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Ruth. â€œMy mind doesnâ€™t dislike anything that much. Letâ€™s stay, and consider this thing with such a scientific detachment and precision as would make thy brother proud of us, did he know of â€™t.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l give you the pleasure of tel ing him,â€ said Ted. 
 	Ruth did him a courtesy, very gravely; and they went downstairs to join the others. 
 	Â 
 	Somebody in this partyâ€”probably, thought Ruth, either Randolph or Andrewâ€”was efficient. By the time she and Ted had finished their discussion, matters downstairs were wel advanced. The unfortunates who had been preparing food outside had descended upon Claudiaâ€™s kitchen; the horses had been snugly incarcerated in one of Claudiaâ€™s outbuildings; a fire had been built in Claudiaâ€™s parlor and everybodyâ€™s wet outer garments hung about the room to dry; and Ruth found herself in Claudiaâ€™s vegetable garden with Lord Andrew, foraging for late tomatoes and the fal crop of beans. 
 	The rain had slackened to a mild drizzle. The water-laden plants and ankle-deep mud of the garden were troublesome, but Ruth had always liked getting muddy, so long as there was a clear prospect of a hot bath afterward. 
 	There was a fire in the parlor and a huge copper tub in Claudiaâ€™s kitchen; so Ruth, with a basket over her arm, was enjoying herself. 
 	Andrew seemed to know his way around a garden; he was finding twice as many tomatoes as she was. Ruth would have ventured some pleasant remark, except that she was ignorant of his previous relations with Lady Ruth, and no longer trusted Lady Ruth to have behaved in a manner that would not embarrass somebody taking her place. 
 	Andrew did not seem disposed to conversation; he looked, in fact, sulky, and so consistently kept his eyes from Ruth that by the time they had moved on to the beans, she felt safe in staring at him. 
 	He did look like Claudia. He didnâ€™t have her coloring; she had hair so black you could see neither blue nor red in it, and big brown eyes, and her eyebrows, without looking in the least as though she plucked or shaped them, were arched like the ears of a cat. Andrew had ordinary brown hair and eyes of an indeterminate color between brown and green. But the shape of them was the same, and the arch of the light brows, and an extremely stubborn chin. He didnâ€™t look like a vil ain. But then, thought Ruth, straightening her back and hurling a bunch of blackened beans over the tomatoes to land squelchily in the patch of broccoli, he wasnâ€™t real y a vil ain. He was there to divert suspicion from Randolph, and to subvert the King with his vile philosophies. But he believed the philosophies, and they were inaccurate rather than evil. 
 	There was, of course, the matter of his spying for the Dragon King. If he had. It was maddening; even when the game was over, its mystifying effect lingered. Was Andrew a spy or wasnâ€™t he? Fence and Randolph thought that so being would suit Andrewâ€™s character. But to Ruth it seemed very odd that a man who did not believe in magic should serve a seven-hundred-year-old shape-changer who general y chose to appear as a dragon. She wondered how the Dragon King appeared to Andrew. 
 	Andrew straightened his own back, and caught her looking at him. Ruth felt herself turning red, but managed not to look away. â€œShal we try for some eggplant now?â€
 	she said. 
 	â€œA light thought,â€ said Andrew, â€œto accompany so deep a gaze.â€ There was an accusing tone in his voice that she was at a loss to account for. He acted as if she owed him an apology. 
 	â€œI was thinking about dragons,â€​he said. 
 	Andrew began walking toward the corner occupied by the eggplant, and she went with him. Claudia had a very good drystone wal around her garden, three feet high and solid. It was mostly gray and white stones, mixed here and there with slabs of the familiar pink. Andrew leaned against one of these and looked at Ruth. â€œDragons. Those whose whim may destroy us,â€ said Andrew, with a kind of exasperated sarcasm. 
 	â€œJust one, I thought,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œAh,â€ said Andrew, â€œsith we know not which, we must guard ourselves â€™gainst al . A monstrous dissipation of strength.â€​par 	
 	â€œI donâ€™t see whatâ€™s the point of doing any guarding,â€ said Ruth. She detached three fat, bloomy-purple eggplants from their stems, and decided that the others were too smal to pick. â€œThe whole nature of a whim is that itâ€™s irrational.â€​par 	â€œImbue thy kingly cousin with that thought,â€ said Andrew, in what sounded like complete earnest, â€œand this land wil prosper under him.â€​par 	Ruth nodded soberly. They made a brief foray into the broccoli and then took their harvest back to the house. 
 	Ensconced at the kitchen table, cutting up onions, were Stephen and a lithe young man with blond hair and a cheerful face. Julian, one of the Kingâ€™s Counselors. Ruth gave him her basket of vegetables and felt, al of a sudden, extremely cold. She had had an argument with Ted, about three years ago, concerning who, exactly, should be kil ed in the battle with the Dragon King. She had wanted Julian to be among the slain. She tried to remember why; oh, yes. He was a friend of Matthewâ€™s, and she wanted Matthew to be so distracted with grief that he would fail to discover that Randolph had kil ed the King. If she had insisted, Julian would not be sitting at Claudiaâ€™s scrubbed wooden table, slicing onions; his body would be in that mass grave at the desertâ€™s edge and his ghost drifting foggy and forgetful in the land of the dead. 
 	Ruth was shivering. She went and stood by the fire. Her cloak began to steam, which was very interesting. Andrew, appearing next to her on the hearth, held out his hands to the fire and said, â€œYou were best to keep your eye from Julian, my lady. He honoreth Randolph exceedingly.â€​par 	Whatever that meant, it was nasty. Ruth cursed Lady Ruth and settled for saying, â€œAnd so do I also, my lord.â€​par 	Andrew said, â€œHe did murder the King.â€​par 	Hel ! thought Ruth. They were standing close together; the fire made a lot of noise, and so did whatever was bubbling in the iron pot hanging over the flames. Stephen and Julian were the roomâ€™s width away. Ruth stared Andrew in the eye and said, furiously, â€œThat is a vile slander; I wonâ€™t hear it; if you bandy it about youâ€™l be sorry.â€
 	She was so angry she stopped shivering. She stalked over to Stephen and said, â€œShal I wash the beans? 
 	Theyâ€™re al over mud.â€​par 	Stephen nodded, and Ruth bundled the beans, mud and al , into the front of her skirt and hauled them over to the sink. 
 	Though made of slate, this was recognizable as a sink, and even had running water; but there was some sort of pump arrangement, not a faucet. Ruth was good at figuring out how things worked, but she found when she tried to use the pump that her fingers were shaking and she couldnâ€™t think. 
 	Andrew said, â€œIf you wil al ow me,â€ and she got out of his way. He fil ed a large red bowl half up with water and put the beans into it. He said, â€œHath your heart truly changed?â€​par 	Jesus Christ! thought Ruth, staring at him. Had that prize idiot Lady Ruth been secretly engaged to Andrew as wel as to Edward? Or had she just told him her troubles, whatever they were? â€œI honor Lord Randolph,â€ she said, taking refuge in repetition, and also incidental y in the truth, â€œand I wonâ€™t hear slanders about him.â€​par 	Andrew drained the beans and rinsed the bowl. 
 	â€œHaving spoke so many of them, thou hast perhaps a surfeit?â€​e said, stil pleasantly. 
 	Oh, hel , thought Ruth, again. God help us al . She didnâ€™t want to marry Randolph and she told Andrew al about it. 
 	â€œIâ€™ve come to see,â€ said Ruth, as steadily as she could, â€œthat speaking slander doth naught but harm.â€​par 	Andrew stared at her for a good fifteen seconds. â€œDo I then have thy help no longer in my enterprise?â€​e said. 
 	Shit, thought Ruth, for the first time in her life. She did not know what to say. If she told Andrew she would stil help him, she might find out what his enterprise was. Or she might just give herself away. She shook her head. She had just realized that this gesture was ambiguous when Stephen requested the beans. Ruth snatched the bowl from the sink and carried it over to him; and she stayed in the kitchen, close to either Stephen or Julian, cutting up vegetables and, later, stirring the pots and helping Stephen decide on the seasonings. Andrew hung around for ten minutes or so, looking neither angry nor puzzled, but not looking easy, either. Julian final y sent him to set the table. 
 	At dinner, which they ate in a hol ow, chil y room with a field of goldenrod painted on the ceiling and no other decoration at al , she contrived to sit between Ted and the Peony. This gave her a sense of security, and she was able to tel Ted quietly that she had to speak to him later. Then she was able to attend to the vegetable stew and the fresh bread, which were both good. She hoped there wasnâ€™t anything unwholesome in Claudiaâ€™s cloves, or her flour, or her butter, or her vegetable garden. 
 	The conversation was al of practical matters: when the moon would rise, how few rooms they could get away with lighting fires in, who should sleep right after dinner and who later, who was to go sit with the second Crystal of Earth, who was to stand guard outside the house, and who should wash the dishes. This last problem, thought Ruth, was never easily resolved in any world, real or imaginary. She grinned at Randolphâ€™s suggestion that they scrape the dishes and leave them for Claudia, and set herself to putting names to the less-familiar faces. 
 	The Peony was cal ed Dittany. The Mal ow was Stephen. 
 	Ted, Randolph, Andrew, Julian, she knew. That left the large, blond, gloomy man sitting next to Julian. Except for the size and the attitude, they bore a strong resemblance to each other. Of course, they were brothers. The large one was Jerome, another of Tedâ€™s counselors. He had had charge of Claudia after she tried to kil Fence; and from his charge Claudia had escaped. It was impossible to tel if this meant that there was something sinister about Jerome. 
 	As people began folding their napkins (and whoâ€™s going to wash and iron those? thought Ruth), Ted whispered, â€œCome upstairs. They canâ€™t expect a King to help with the dishes.â€​par 	â€œNot just us,â€ breathed Ruth, who had doubts about his last assertion but did not think this the time to argue about it. â€œWe canâ€™t sneak off together.â€​par 	â€œRandolph doesnâ€™t care now; he knows who we are.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m afraid Andrew might care.â€​par 	Ted raised both eyebrows; she shrugged. â€œOkay,â€
 	said Ted, softly, â€œyou go on up, and Iâ€™l bring Randolph.â€​par 	
 	Al the adults were stil arguing, amiably, about the dishes. 
 	Ruth slipped out of the room, snagging a candle in a brass holder from the sideboard as she went, and climbed quickly up the steps. She went as far as the fourth floor, to the dusty hal lined with open doors. She went clockwise around it, peering into al the rooms. Most of them were empty, but the last one on the left held a rag rug in red and gold, and six carved chairs with gold cushions. Ruth put the candle on the floor and sat down in the nearest chair. It was not dusty here. 
 	Even the windows sparkled in the smal light of the candle. 
 	Outside it was stil raining. 
 	After ten minutes or so, Ruth grew uneasy with her thoughts, which were turning on Andrewâ€™s remarks and the probable character of Lady Ruth. She got up and went to one of the windows. It looked east, over a great many wet trees that faded into the misty sky. Ruth tried the other window. There were the garden and the outbuildings and a lumpy, thinly forested land through which wound dimly the rough road they had taken when they rode to fight the Dragon King. Ruth could pick out two minute white cottages. 
 	Nothing moved in the whole drenched landscape. It couldnâ€™t be more than two in the afternoon, but it looked like twilight. Ruth leaned her forehead on the glass. Three crows flew in slow circles over the stubble fields around the cottages. Faintly, the back of her mind said, Your future, your future Iâ€™ll tell to you, / Your future you often have asked me. / Your true love will die by your own right hand, /
 	 And crazy man Michael will cursed be. 
 	Ruth jerked her head back from the glass, which was not cool as glass ought to be, and spoke aloud to the six chairs and the innocent rag rug. â€œYouâ€™re a fine sort of morbid person to have in the back of oneâ€™s mind. Why couldnâ€™t you die decently? A fine murderer Claudia must be.â€​par 	 Murder, said the remote voice, tinged this time with a slight and indefinable accent, though it have no tongue, will speak / With most miraculous organ. 
 	â € œ O h , thank you!â€ said Ruth, more or less automatical y; in the central part of her she was extremely frightened, but this was a source of information that, unlike Andrew, could not betray her true nature. â€œIâ€™ve always wanted to be a miraculous organ.â€​par 	 The playing of the merry organ, / Sweet singing all in the choir. 
 	â€œYouâ€™re wandering,â€ said Ruth, severely; and Ted and Randolph came into the room. 
 	Ted had another candle, and Randolph had an iron lantern, which he hung from a hook on the wal . Ted put his candle next to Ruthâ€™s and looked at her. â€œYouâ€™re talking to yourself.â€​par 	â€œI am not. Iâ€™m talking to Lady Ruth.â€​par 	â€œIs she answering?â€ said Ted, eagerly. â€œEdward doesnâ€™t pay any attention to me.â€​par 	â€œWel , she doesnâ€™t pay much; or at least, sheâ€™s easily distracted. Randolph, did Lady Ruth speak with an accent?â€​par 	â€œOh, aye,â€ said Randolph, â€œthrough having been brought up her first five years in the Dubious Hil s. We thought she had outgrown it this past summer.â€ He closed his mouth abruptly. 
 	â€œWhy donâ€™t we al sit down?â€ said Ruth, doing so under the lantern. â€œWhy was she brought up there?â€​par 	Randolph took the chair across from her, and Ted dragged another between them. Randolph said, â€œFor that her lady mother loved her not.â€​par 	Ruth was disgusted. You couldnâ€™t even enjoy a pure, just anger against Lady Ruth; she had had a warped childhood. 
 	â€œWhy did you ask?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWel , I think there are two people in the back of my head; Lady Ruth, who speaks with an accent, and somebody else, who doesnâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œWhat saith the other?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œLots of things,â€ said Ruth. â€œMost recently, it said, â€˜he playing of the merry organ, / Sweet singing al in the choir.â€™â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Randolph, dubiously, â€œbear it in mind. Now. Wherefore cal edst thou this conference?â€​par 	Ruth, who had practiced on her way up the stairs, repeated to him the conversation she had had with Andrew. 
 	â€œOh, Ruthie!â€ said Ted when she had finished. 
 	â€œWhy didnâ€™t you say youâ€™d stil help him?â€​par 	â€œBecause,â€ said Ruth, â€œI thought Iâ€™d just give myself away. His â€˜nterpriseâ€™ doesnâ€™t have to be spying for the Dragon King. And even if it is, I donâ€™t know what that entailed. El en remembers, for al the good that does us.â€​par 	â€œWe do have a means of communication,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œI didnâ€™t get the impression,â€ retorted Ruth, â€œthat it operated as if it were a telephone. Lord Randolph? Can one talk back and forth as if the person receiving the message were in the same room?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Randolph, looking intrigued. â€œThou sayest this telephone performeth so?â€​par 	â€œYes,â€ said Ruth, â€œbut you canâ€™t have one here. God knows what itâ€™d turn into. Anyway, Ted, I didnâ€™t exactly tel Andrew I wouldnâ€™t help him. But I refuse to talk to him again without some idea of whatâ€™s going on here.â€​par 	â€œOh, come on,â€ said Ted. â€œYouâ€™ve been playacting with Meredith for three months and didnâ€™t give yourself away. Andrew should be childâ€™s play.â€​par 	Ruth was exasperated. Being King was making Ted entirely too autocratic. â€œLook,â€ she said. â€œI have the feeling that Lady Ruthâ€™s relations with Andrew were not such that I would like to take them up. Okay?â€​par 	â€œWhat?â€​par 	â€œShe was a baggage!â€ said Ruth, furiously. â€œNo better than she should be! Getting engaged to people right and left!â€​par 	â€œRuth, watch it!â€​par 	Ruth was consumed with confusion and remorse. She made herself look at Randolph, who had raised his eyebrows again but did not seem notably disturbed. 
 	â€œForgive me,â€ said Ruth. â€œIt was just a feeling I had. Maybe it was al Andrew.â€ She was sure it had not been al Andrew, but there was no point in harrowing Randolphâ€™s feelings. If Ted would drop his insistence that she conspire with Andrew, she wouldnâ€™t have to harrow them. 
 	
 	â€œItâ€™s no matter,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	It occurred to Ruth that neither of Randolphâ€™s women had been what he thought her. She wondered if he were stupid in that regard, or just unlucky. Either way, it seemed unwise to say more. 
 	Ted said, â€œDid you want to marry Lady Ruth?â€​par 	Randolphâ€™s head came up in a gesture of such affront that Ruth wished herself at the other end of the universe. 
 	Then his face cleared, as if he had remembered that al owances must be made for them. â€œNo,â€​e said. 
 	Ruth thought they should leave it at that. Ted said, â€œThen whyâ€”?â€​par 	â€œFor the uniting of the two schools of sorcery,â€ said Randolph. 
 	Wel , thought Ruth, that explained a lot. She decided to risk it. â€œAnd why did the others want Lady Ruth to marry Edward?â€​par 	â€œTo unite rival branches of the family,â€ said Randolph. â€œLook you; I believe that Edward loved her.â€​par 	â€œAh; but did she love him?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Randolph shrugged. 
 	â€œI hate this,â€ said Ruth. Nobody having any reply to this, she went on. â€œWe should keep an eye on Andrew.â€​par 	â€œWe should anyway,â€ said Ted, â€œon account of the spying.â€​par 	They were quiet; Ruth supposed there was no point in going downstairs until the dishes were done. She tried to imagine Lady Ruthâ€™s being in love with Edward. She could not conceive of being in love with Ted, though there was nothing wrong with him that a few years and a few inches wouldnâ€™t cure. She supposed she had known him too long. But then, Lady Ruth had known Edward for the same length of time. It seemed far more likely that she had loved Randolph, regardless of what other slimy intrigues she might have been plotting. Ruth looked thoughtful y at Randolphâ€™s bent head, and looked away. 
 	
 CHAPTER 15

 	AT ten oâ€™clock, as calculated by Dittanyâ€™s astrolabe, when the moon would shine through the window of Claudiaâ€™s north tower and hit the golden globe, they al sat on the floor of the tower room. It had stopped raining while they slept, and a vigorous east wind had snatched the clouds over the horizon. 
 	Ted squinted up at the globe and wished for Laura. It looked like a good thing to see visions in, if you had the knack. Al he saw were minute, shifting scenes, as if somebody had made a kaleidoscope with its openings in the shapes of houses and trees and faces. Every time he had something in focus, a little stab of lightning would obliterate it. 
 	â€œGet ready,â€ said Randolph, from his post by the window. He stood up. 
 	â€œGet read-y!â€ whispered Ruth to Ted, â€œthe world is coming to an end!â€​par 	What had gotten into her? Wel , maybe this was a Thurberesque situation. â€œThis cold night,â€ Ted whispered back, â€œwil turn us al to fools and madmen.â€​par 	With a dramatic suddenness that you do not expect from a world in which you have lived for three months, and which has rained al day on the road you have to ride tonight, the dark arch of Claudiaâ€™s tower window lit up with silver. 
 	The roiling depths of the golden globe stil ed; the rich light dimmed to gray; and from a little spark of red in the globeâ€™s center there grew the stately form of a dragon. It grew to the size of the globe, to the outermost diameter of its glow; and stopped, before Ted had to decide whether he was going to leave the room, possibly dragging Ruth with him. 
 	The wind rattled the windows. Ted could feel his heart thumping in his ears. He had a good side view of the dragon, which floated with its tail to the trapdoor and its head toward Randolph, at the window. The dragon was bright red with touches of black. It was a very twisty, decorated dragon, with seven claws on each foot and a great many tendrils and spikes and whiskers. 
 	Ruth leaned over so close that Ted could feel her breath in his ears, and said very softly, â€œSpeak to it; thou art a scholar.â€​par 	Ted forebore to shush her; he didnâ€™t want that huge, tapering head to look in his direction. It had black eyes with red pupils and could have looked at him, if it had wanted to, without turning its head. But its gaze was bent on Randolph. 
 	Randolph went down on one knee and bowed his forehead onto the other. It was the most extravagant gesture of respect that Ted had ever seen anybody in the Secret Country make. Randolph could not have heard Ruth; but he did speak, and in the very words with which the scholar Horatio once addressed a ghost. â€œ â€˜f thou hast any sound, or use of voice, / Speak to me: / If there be any good thing to be done,/That may to thee do ease and grace to me, / Speak to me: / If thou art privy to thy countryâ€™s fate, 
 	/ Which, happily, foreknowing may avoid, / O, speak!â€™
 	â€​par 	The dragonâ€™s long mouth opened. Ted thought that he wouldnâ€™t be at al surprised if, having been sown in the ground, those teeth came up armed men. The dragonâ€™s voice crackled and fizzed like a badly tuned radio. It said, â€œKnowest me not?â€​par 	And Randolph, his face stark white in the mix of gray light and moonlight, and his eyes like saucers, said, â€œBelaparthalion.â€​par 	â€œWelcome,â€ said the dragon. There was something in its voice that Ted had heard before. 
 	Randolph said, â€œArt thou imprisoned?â€​par 	â€œA part of me,â€ said the dragon, and Ted had it. The remote amusement of the unicorns, the dry glee, the sense of some joke beyond oneâ€™s ken. 
 	â€œWhat may we do?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œFor me, naught,â€ said Belaparthalion. â€œFor thyself, walk warily.â€​par 	â€œWhat part is so imprisoned?â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œAnd by whom?â€​par 	â€œThis shape thou seest,â€ said Belaparthalion, with a shade of sharpness, â€œand the speech whereby to make my captor known.â€​par 	â€œThat smel s of Claudia,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œMost strongly,â€ said the dragon. It did not turn its head to address her. Ted wondered if it could. It was very unpleasant to think of so large and powerful and humorous a creature held captive; not least because of what this said about Claudia. 
 	â€œWhat may we do?â€​epeated Randolph. 
 	â€œThy present enterprise wil serve thee wel enough.â€
 	There was a long pause. The dragon said, â€œAsk for me in the land of the dead.â€​par 	
 	â€œI wil so,â€ said Randolph, and bowed in the usual Secret Country fashion. 
 	â€œAl may yet be very wel ,â€ said Belaparthalion, in a tone of resignation mixed with very little humor. It tucked its long head under its long bel y and folded its spiky, fragile wings and attenuated limbs, shrank steadily to a spark of red, and vanished. The globe stayed dul gray, swal owing the moonlight. 
 	â€œFor the love of heaven,â€ said Randolph, â€œletâ€™s find some warmer place.â€​par 	â€œIs it the Crystal of Earth?â€​sked Ted. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Randolph, lighting a candle. â€œBy no means.â€ And he disappeared through the trapdoor before Ted could ask him anything else. 
 	â€œJulian?â€ said Ted, irritated with his Regent. 
 	â€œCould you stay and guard this thing?â€​par 	â€œAs you wil , my lord,â€ said Julian, and sat down again in the corner. 
 	They reassembled in the kitchen; Dittany fetched Jerome from his watch outside. Stephen was asleep, and they left him alone. Andrew hung the kettle over the fire and made a large pot of very strong tea. The pot was red. The mugs, also red, were styled like those of High Castle, but each of them had a little white plaque of a unicornâ€™s head in unglazed clay on it, and the eye of each unicorn was picked out in yel ow. Ted found them unnerving, but the tea, if you put enough honey in it, was very welcome. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, when he was tired of watching people slurp tea and avoid one anotherâ€™s eyes. 
 	â€œWhat meaneth this apparition?â€​par 	
 	â€œYon globe,â€ said Randolph to his empty mug, â€œis not the Crystal of Earth. Yet it is like unto that Crystal. 
 	Now that Crystal contains the Hidden Land in little, and whoso breaketh it breaketh also the Hidden Land. Yon globe containeth the dragon Belaparthalion, also in little.â€
 	He stopped. 
 	â€œWherefore,â€ said Ruth, impatiently, â€œwhoso breaketh it breaketh also the dragon?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Randolph. â€œBreaketh, most like, the dragon-shape merely. Dragons walk abroad in many forms. 
 	But look you, the dragon-shape is native to them, and in it alone do they possess their ful powers. This is truth. 
 	â€™Tis said, and may be truth also, that outwith that shape they may run mad. Wherefore, with the whim of the dragon among those things that may destroy the Hidden Land, we may not so provoke that whim.â€​par 	â€œMay it not, so imprisoned,â€ said Andrew, â€œequal y run mad and destroy us?â€ There was humor in his voice also, but it was neither remote nor dry. 
 	â€œNot yet,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œBesides,â€ said Ruth, â€œit told us not to mess with it.â€​par 	â€œMost clearly,â€​aid Jerome, in a dissatisfied tone. 
 	â€œâ€™Twil abide â€™til we come to the land of the dead,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œAl right,â€ said Ted. â€œWhat does this tel us about Claudia? Who can imprison a dragon? What are they vulnerable to?â€​par 	â€œJests,â€ said Randolph, â€œgames of chance; and the promise of gold.â€​par 	
 	â€œThese things are poison to them?â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œOr they have a weakness for them?â€​par 	â€œA 
 	weakness 
 	only,â€ 
 	said 
 	Randolph. 
 	â€œUnicornâ€™s blood is poison to a dragon; naught else.â€​par 	â€œWhat a very unpleasant thought,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œAl right,â€ said Ted again. â€œWhat do we need to do?â€​par 	â€œRide posthaste to the Gray Lake,â€ said Randolph, â€œwhere we may ask after Belaparthalion in the land of the dead. But first I think we must send word to Fence. It may be that the Council of Nine at Heathwil Library can read this riddle.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l get the flute,â€ said Ruth. â€œYou compose your message.â€​par 	Randolph got up and went into Claudiaâ€™s front hal , whence he returned with a huge sheet of paper, a glass pen, and a bottle of ink. Ted observed the pen with fascination. 
 	Its nib was the usual sharpened goose-quil , but this had been attached to a hol ow cylinder of red glass. You dipped the pen and fil ed the cylinder, and could write whole paragraphs before having to dip the pen again. Ted had struggled with ordinary dipping pens at High Castle, and hoped Randolph was taking proper notice of this improvement. 
 	Randolph seemed to be engaged in some sort of parlor game with Dittany, Jerome, and Andrew. Dittany took it very seriously, but gloomy Jerome warmed and brightened as it went on. Randolph kept asking them for rhymes and laughing at their suggestions. Andrew affected to be bored and skeptical, but the three most difficult rhymes were al provided by him; not to mention the abominable part-rhyme â€œcrystal / mizzle,â€ which, after much argument, was pronounced acceptable on the ground that the message was about a dragon. 
 	Ted, who was tired and who had not been present at Celiaâ€™s instruction of Ruth, final y figured out that they were putting the news about Belaparthalion into verse. It sounded like any anonymous fifteenth-century bal ad by the time they were finished. Ruth meanwhile could be heard in the hal way, squeaking on the flute and final y producing an even and euphonious version of â€œPuff the Magic Dragon.â€ Ted thought this was both sil y and risky, but nothing seemed to come of it. 
 	Ruth returned with the flute, and Randolph handed her the ink-smudged paper. Ruth scowled over it. â€œMaybe â€˜atty Groves,â€™â€ she said. â€œNo, I donâ€™t think so; thatâ€™s awful y il -omened. Oh, I know! Weâ€™l use â€˜he Minstrel Boy.â€™ How odd; I never thought of those tunes as interchangeable.â€ She grinned at Ted, who frowned repressively at her; she put the flute to her lips and played briskly through six repetitions of â€œThe Minstrel Boy.â€​par 	It was not until Ted, feeling bored at the fourth repetition and thinking that one would have to wrench the words to make them fit that tune, peered at the paper again, that he realized what was happening. The first three blotched verses had vanished from the paper, and the fourth was evaporating as Ruth played. There was nothing special about the pen and paper; she was doing it al with the flute. 
 	When she stopped, Randolph had a clean, empty sheet of paper and a pen ful of ink. How thrifty, thought Ted. But it seemed uncanny to him. Nobody looked at al tired, and they hadnâ€™t even used up any ink. Maybe the work was al done by the receiving end. He hoped it wouldnâ€™t be too much for Laura. 
 	â€œWel , good,â€ said Ruth. She began to unscrew the mouthpiece of the flute. â€œI suppose now we ride away and make however many miles we were supposed to have made by now?â€​par 	â€œAlas, yes,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œAt least itâ€™s stopped raining,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIâ€™ve stopped its raining,â€ said Randolph; â€œâ€™twil begin again within the hour.â€​par 	He got up and went out, fol owed by Dittany and Jerome, leaving Ted and Ruth to stare at each other. Andrew tipped his heavy wooden chair back like an insolent student awaiting his turn to be spoken to by the principal, smiling faintly. 
 	Ted reflected that Edward knew little about magic, and took a risk. â€œWhenâ€™d he doâ€™t? He didnâ€™t make a production of it.â€​par 	â€œThe Blue School doesnâ€™t,â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œItâ€™s the Green Caves that like ceremonies and drama.â€​par 	â€œWe should let El en join them, then,â€ said Ted, thoughtlessly, â€œand give you to the Blue School.â€​par 	This suggestion produced a harrowing silence. Ted looked from Ruth, who was very red, to Andrew, who had restored the chair to its upright position and was upright in it, staring at Ruth with an expression of disbelieving discovery. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t look like that,â€ said Ted to him. 
 	â€œIâ€™m not going to marry her.â€​par 	
 	He plunged out of the kitchen, fol owed by Ruth, who grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and shook his arm violently. 
 	â€œWhy did you say that? It would have been better to keep him guessing. Now heâ€™l think Iâ€™m going to marry Randolph.â€​par 	â€œWel , heâ€™d better think so,â€ said Ted. â€œIf he bothers you too much, why donâ€™t you tel him about the bargain with Meredith? Blame it al on her.â€​par 	â€œI am not tel ing him anything,â€ said Ruth. She had relaxed her grip on his sleeve, but she made a sudden surprised noise like that of somebody who has been poked in the ribs, and clutched Tedâ€™s arm in a grasp that hurt. 
 	â€œOh, Lord! What if itâ€™s nothing to do with the Dragon King? What if I said Iâ€™d help him keep Randolph from murdering Wil iam?â€ She giggled hysterical y. â€œ
 	â€˜urder, though it have no tongue, wil speak / With most miraculous organ.â€™ â€​par 	â€œShhh!â€ said Ted. They were out of earshot of Andrew, but not of Stephen, if he should wake up. â€œStop quoting Shakespeare. Havenâ€™t we got enough of that?â€​par 	â€œLady Ruth said it,â€ said Ruth. She had stopped laughing, but she was stil holding on to his arm. Her hand quivered. â€œI thought she meant her own murder, Ted. 
 	What if we meet the King in the land of the dead?â€​par 	â€œThe ghosts donâ€™t remember who they are.â€​par 	â€œBut if Andrew asks the Kingâ€™s ghostâ€”â€​par 	â€œâ€˜onâ€™t borrow trouble,â€™â€ said Ted, quoting Agatha. Ruth seeming unconvinced, he added something of his own. â€œWe can burn that bridge when we come to it.â€​par 	Ruth laughed, as if in spite of herself. â€œThe readiness is al ,â€​he said. 
 	Â 
 	They left from behind Claudiaâ€™s house, fol owing a narrow path through a meadow and up a little rise, on the other side of which they found the road they wanted. The moon shone clear, and made sparkles on the wet leaves and stones. Ted looked over his shoulder once, and saw the dead gray light pouring out of Claudiaâ€™s tower. He wondered where the golden light had gone, and half wished they had left things alone. The back of his mind said, And, for thou wast a spirit too delicate / To act her earthy and abhorred commands, / Refusing her grand hests, she did confine thee. 
 	Ted thought of the intricate, muscular shape of the dragon, and the remote humor of its crackling voice. A spirit too delicate? â€œSomehow,â€ he said aloud, â€œI canâ€™t see it.â€​par 	
 CHAPTER 16

 	LAURA had always been so petrified by the dangers of horseback riding that its discomforts had not occurred to her. By the time they stopped for lunch she was extremely stiff; by the time they stopped for the night, she hurt al over. 
 	The Enchanted Forest did not act enchanted. It did not even keep off the rain. Laura realized that both its appearance before the Unicorn Hunt, when it had been wild and tangled, and its appearance afterward, when it had been park-like, were forms of holiday attire. Now they were seeing it in its everyday dress. It had enormous beech and oak and rowan trees; clear paths; a plenitude of yel ow, white, or orange flowers like stunted chrysanthemums; a dearth of undergrowth, aside from the little bushes that look as if they ought to be growing seventy feet tal in a prehistoric forest, and turn bright red in the early fal ; and convenient logs and rocks in clearings perfectly suited for building a fire and spending the night. 
 	Laura stood under a beech tree and watched Celia and Fence build a fire. They had erected a little awning of oiled leather over it, to keep off the rain the trees let through. 
 	Fence thought this precaution unnecessary, but had given in, smiling, when Celia insisted. El en had gone to get water, and Patrick to find more wood. Matthew was unburdening the horses and covering them up with blankets. 
 	El en trudged into the clearing, lugging a skin of water. 
 	â€œThereâ€™s more unicorn footprints by the stream,â€
 	she said. 
 	Laura was grateful that Patrick was absent. Unicorns left flowering plants and trees behind them the way cats leave hair; El en had decided this morning to cal these manifestations unicorn footprints, and Patrick, being Patrick, promptly began cal ing them fewmets. Laura suspected that he would have cal ed them something considerably more vulgar if Celia had not had her eye on him. Laura hadnâ€™t figured out why Patrick respected Celia when he scorned everybody else in High Castle, but it was a great blessing. 
 	â€œWhat kinds of flowers?â€ Laura asked, rather tardily. 
 	El en had dumped her water into their camp kettle and was rummaging in the heap of saddlebags. 
 	â€œWhite violets,â€ said El en, pul ing out six little yel ow apples and lining them up on a flat stone. â€œForget-me-nots. Crocuses. And just in case you might think itâ€™s spring, a huge great clump of Michaelmas daisies.â€​par 	â€œWhatâ€™s a Michaelmas daisy?â€​par 	El en blinked up at her. â€œThatâ€™s weird,â€ she said. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™re asters; kind of a dusty blue. But Princess El en cal s them Michaelmas daisies. Michael-mass,â€ she added. â€œNot micklemus , which is how we say it.â€​par 	â€œWhatâ€™s Michaelmas?â€​par 	â€œThe feast of the archangel Michael,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œDo they have archangels here?â€​par 	Celia came over to fetch the kettle, and El en said to her, â€œWhatâ€™s Michaelmas?â€​par 	â€œSeptember twenty-ninth,â€ said Celia, â€œis Michaelmasâ€™s Day. â€™Tis a feast of Heathwil Library; something to do with the end of the wizardsâ€™ wars.â€​par 	
 	â€œWhoâ€™s Michaelmas, then?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œProsperoâ€™s apprentice,â€​aid Celia, simply. 
 	â€œI canâ€™t stand it,â€ said El en. â€œMichaelmas is a person?â€​par 	Celia smiled. â€œSome might dispute,â€ she said. 
 	â€œA walketh very like one. Of your courtesy, find me the jars of stew iâ€™thâ€™other pack.â€ She carried the kettle away to the fire. 
 	Laura fol owed her. â€œWhat does Michaelmasâ€™s name mean?â€​par 	â€œThat Michael who hath been dismissed,â€ said Celia, straightening. â€œThere were three named Michael on the Council of Nine when Heathwil Library was planned, wherefore they found other names for two of them.â€​par 	â€œWho dismissed the Michael who was dismissed?â€​par 	â€œProspero. El en, the stew?â€​par 	El en leapt up with a start and began searching through the other bag. Laura, with several questions begging for resolution, chose at random, and said, â€œWho was Prospero?â€​par 	â€œSay not was,â€ said Celia. â€œHeâ€™s of the Council of nine that found Heathwil Library; a most formidable sorcerer once, and now the most terrifying of scholars.â€​par 	â€œWhyâ€™d he stop being a sorcerer?â€​par 	â€œA was of the Red School,â€ said Celia, accepting the earthenware pot El en handed her and beginning to pry off its wax seal. â€œAnd their tenets did lead him on to most dreadful acts; which, when he saw their issue, he did regret.â€​par 	â€œWhat acts?â€​par 	â€œA was Melanieâ€™s eldest brother,â€ said Celia, rather shortly. 
 	â€œOh!â€ said Laura. He was one of the family that had kil ed a unicorn by treachery. Which was, of course, why he was alive stil ; the blood of a unicorn kil ed by treachery conferred immortality. Laura had always thought this a supremely stupid setup; it was one of the remnants of earlier games that Ted and Ruth had played before the rest of them were old enough, and they had insisted on retaining it. She wasnâ€™t at al sure that she wanted to meet Prospero, no matter how regretful he was. 
 	People having finished their various tasks, they sat around the fire and ate their stew. Laura recognized it from dinner at High Castle the night before. She also knew, having helped Celia unpack for lunch, that there was not much of it in their baggage. She had seen quantities of dried fruit, little square cakes with oatmeal and raisins in them, dried meat, and a few long-keeping vegetables like onions and potatoes. They would not eat this wel for most of the trip, unless somebody shot a rabbit or something. Laura didnâ€™t care for this notion. 
 	And shot it with what, anyway? Nobody had a bow. 
 	Archery did not seem to be much practiced at High Castle. 
 	But there were arrow slits al over the castle. Laura looked sideways at Patrick, planning to ask him to read this riddle for her, and then she figured it out herself. The arrow slits must have been put in before the Border Magic, when it was stil possible that an enemy army might besiege High Castle. 
 	
 	Laura came out of her reverie with a jerk as El en passed her a squashed apple tart. There wouldnâ€™t be more of those, either. Laura savored it while she could, and listened to the others. 
 	â€œHow long do you think itâ€™s likely to rain?â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œIâ€™d thought it had cleared sooner,â€ said Matthew. 
 	â€œClaudia?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	Celia said, â€œâ€™Twould be a petty persecution.â€​par 	â€œMaybe itâ€™s just a warm-up act,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	Nobody chose to take up this remark. Celia made tea out of half the hot water and passed the mugs around. In the wider spaces of the woods, the rain fel steadily, a background murmur very like the fireâ€™s. In their clump of beech trees, an occasional huge drop hit somebody on the head. 
 	Celia prepared to wash the mugs and the knives and spoons in the remaining hot water, and sent Laura and El en to the stream to wash the plates, exhorting them to be certain to scrub them wel with sand. 
 	â€œThereâ€™s sand by the unicorn footprints,â€ said El en, when they were safely out of Patrickâ€™s hearing. 
 	She led the way along a narrow path. On their left a vast, tumbled slope of round rocks and vivid green moss fel , nastily steep, into a misty val ey of young trees. Laura was glad the plates were tin and wouldnâ€™t break. She could hear water running at the bottom of the val ey. She fol owed El en, and the path turned and dragged them slipping and stumbling down the rocky slope and disgorged them suddenly onto a flat grassy place overflowing with flowers. 
 	The stream hissed whitely over a little fal s and widened into a pool whose glossy surface was perfectly stil and unmoving. 
 	It 
 	had 
 	stopped 
 	raining. 
 	Or, 
 	thought
 	Lauraâ€”picking her way among dusty blue and purple and dark red daisy-like flowers the size of the plates she carried; and clumps of white violets whose leaves were the size of her hand and their flowers as big as an ordinary daisy; and forget-me-nots of the proper size but of a blue almost luminous; and crocuses, gold and purple and white, the size of tulipsâ€”it just wasnâ€™t raining here. 
 	They knelt at the streamâ€™s edge, and scrubbed the plates. The remnants of the stew were remarkably clingy; Laura supposed they shouldnâ€™t al have sat there brooding and let it get cold. 
 	â€œIâ€™d like to cal a unicorn,â€ said El en, stacking her last plate with the others and rinsing her hands in the water. 
 	Laura, who had two plates left, scrubbed harder. The water was cold but very silky to the touch. â€œDo you think we could have a drink?â€​he said. 
 	â€œThat wonâ€™t cal a unicorn. What did you do to make the one you saw show up?â€​par 	â€œI didnâ€™t make it show up,â€ said Laura. â€œI whistled â€˜he Minstrel Boy.â€™ Then I whistled like a cardinal; and a cardinal came. I said to it, â€˜lease, Iâ€™m looking for a unicorn.â€™ And it flew away, and made a fuss when I tried to fol ow it. So I waited, and it came back with Claudia. Claudia and I had a stupid conversation, and she told me that the unicorns had gone south for the winter, and she left. And I looked down and there was a unicorn standing in the water.â€​par 	El en stood up and shook water off her hands. She wore an expression unnervingly like Patrickâ€™s when he was clicking through in his mind the possibilities of a given situation. â€œIt was the cardinal,â€ she said. â€œI bet it was. Letâ€™s whistle.â€​par 	â€œNo!â€ said Laura, standing up in a hurry and dropping al her plates. â€œWe donâ€™t want them to know weâ€™re here.â€​par 	â€œNo; we donâ€™t want them to know where weâ€™re going.â€​par 	â€œWel , once they know weâ€™re here they could fol ow us.â€​par 	â€œThey could have been fol owing us al along,â€ said El en. 
 	Laura knew the sinking feeling of somebody who is going to lose an argument, because it isnâ€™t real y an argument at al . She said, â€œThereâ€™s no point in asking for trouble.â€​par 	â€œWe donâ€™t know it wil be trouble,â€ said El en. 
 	She tipped her head back, and a little breeze stirred her crazy black hair. She whistled, clearly and accurately, the song of the cardinal. And a red bird dropped from the empty spaces of the forest and landed on her shoulder. It was the biggest cardinal Laura had ever seen. It was as large as a crow. 
 	â€œPlease,â€ 
 	said 
 	El en, 
 	standing 
 	very 
 	stil , 
 	â€œweâ€™re trying to find a unicorn.â€​par 	The cardinal rose off her shoulder and flew downstream. 
 	Before it had disappeared, they heard a regular sloshing, and a unicorn came wading through the water, unconcernedly, as if it were walking in a field of grass. Laura wondered if they real y liked water so much, or just liked getting other people wet. Both the unicorns she had talked to had appeared in the water. 
 	This one strode into the middle of the little pool and wheeled to face them. Laura looked at it careful y; its eyes were not gold, but violet. It was not Chryse, the one she had just told El en about. It might be the one she had talked to in the lake. She wondered if she and El en looked alike to the unicorns. Somehow she doubted it. She wished El en would say something; she had summoned the unicorn, after al . 
 	The unicorn stood there with its head cocked as if it heard something in the distance. Laura became aware of stirrings and rustlings in the woods around them, as every animal that could tel a unicorn was here came out of its burrow or down from the sky. At least in this forest, the unicorn was the king of beasts. 
 	It was extremely beautiful without seeming in the least unreal. Laura could feel its warmth from three feet away; it had whiskers on the sides of its nose; its eye, however purple, was properly liquid. The tuft of hair on the end of its tail was wet and draggled. But it looked so clean.  No white animal looked truly white; white cows or horses had dingy yel ow or gray casts to their coats, and sheep were just hopeless. Laura had seen white cats that were almost as clean as the unicorn. She wondered if unicorns groomed themselves like cats. She doubted that they would have the tongue for it. She watched the orange fish flash around the unicornâ€™s legs in the shal ow water of the little pool, and thought of cats, dozens of cats, washing the unicorn until its coat gleamed. They would get hairbal s you wouldnâ€™t believe. 
 	â€œThe hair is not so coarse as that,â€ said the unicorn, in the clear and piercing voice of its kind. â€œThou thinkst of horses.â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ 
 	said 
 	Laura, 
 	startled 
 	into 
 	the 
 	truth; 
 	â€œgoats.â€​par 	â€œWhat?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œI should rather ask thee that, youngling,â€ said the unicorn. â€œWherefore stoppest thou me?â€​par 	Laura distinctly heard El en gulp. â€œI hope we didnâ€™t disturb you,â€​aid El en. 
 	The unicorn said, â€œHoping not to disturb, wherefore didst thou send my messenger?â€​par 	â€œBecause,â€ said El en, more boldly, â€œwe werenâ€™t sure he was your messenger. Can you tel us about the cardinals?â€​par 	The unicorn said, â€œ â€˜ canâ€™ must wait upon â€˜ wil .â€™ â€​par 	â€œDo you know who we are?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œI know who you do seem.â€ The unicorn took two steps toward them in the water and nuzzled the top of Lauraâ€™s head. The unicorn smel ed like very clean, dry, crispy autumn leaves; which was to say, it smel ed like Fence. Laura shivered just the same. The unicorn blew vigorously into El enâ€™s hair, altering it very little, and backed up again. â€œYou carry your seemings within,â€ it said, â€œbut you are other. Read me your riddle and I wil read you mine.â€​par 	â€œDonâ€™t you mean that the other way around?â€
 	
 	said El en. 
 	The unicorn made a very odd noise, like somebody unpracticed trying to play a trumpet. â€œAs courtesy to the visitor, no doubt,â€ it said. â€œNo matter that the visitor be uninvited and a most pert intruder. Wel . The cardinals serve whom they wil and also whom they must. They must serve Belaparthalion; they do serve the Outside Powers, none knoweth by choice or upon compulsion; and they wil serve us. Now, what of thy oddness?â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s a very long story,â€​aid El en. 
 	Laura gave her a reproachful look. It was nevertheless true that the gray light was heavier than it had been, that it was getting very chil y, and that from every part of the stream except the pool in which the unicorn stood, wisps of mist were rising off the water. It was also true that tel ing their story to a unicorn might not be the wisest thing to do. 
 	Unicorns were odd; they could be malicious. The only one Laura knew to be wel disposed toward the Secret Country was Chryse, and this was not she. 
 	â€œI think weâ€™re out of our depth,â€​he said. 
 	â€œThou standest not in the water,â€ said the unicorn, in a tone of mild pleasure. 
 	â€œContrariwise,â€ said Laura, startling herself, â€œI and my kinsmen stand in water so deep that every seventh wave doth choke us. An thou shouldst be that seventh wave, what then?â€ Whew, she thought, whereâ€™d that come from? 
 	â€œI?â€ said the unicorn, rather sharply. â€œI made not this bargain.â€​par 	Both the unicorn and Laura looked at El en, who cleared her throat and said, â€œIâ€™l keep it; but may I ask counsel of those wiser than I am?â€​par 	â€œAsk,â€​aid the unicorn, with a great deal of humor. 
 	El en stared at it, and then stared at Laura. Laura looked back at her, shrugged helplessly, and then grinned. â€œAsk what harm wil be done,â€ she suggested. Maybe the unicorns liked ironic situations even when the irony was against them. 
 	El en said slowly, â€œWe know thee not. How if to tel us our tale does us harm, or harm to those we love?â€​par 	â€œBring on thy counselors,â€ said the unicorn; â€œthis counsel is beyond my ken.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l be right back,â€ said El en, and before Laura could move she had scrambled up the slope and disappeared, leaving Laura on the streamâ€™s edge with a unicorn and a motley col ection of birds, squirrels, fish, foxes, and badgers. On the other side of the water they lined the bank like a shelf of stuffed animals, they held so stil . On her side, Laura could hear them rustling up on the hil , but the only creatures she could see were wel up in the trees. 
 	Laura decided that she might as wel sit down. She did so very careful y, both because of her horse-battered muscles and because of the animals. As soon as she was quiet again, three squirrels ran down the nearest tree and sat a foot away from her on the sand. She hoped the badgers and the foxes would stay farther back. But keep the wolf far thence, thatâ€™s foe to men, said a distant voice in her mind. It wasnâ€™t Princess Laura. She wondered if it were the unicorn. She didnâ€™t want to ask. It would only end in another awkward bargain that nobody could see the consequences of. El en was brave, but sometimes she seemed to have no sense. 
 	Â 
 	El en sprinted up the rocky path at a reckless pace, panting, and scattering before her dozens of startled smal animals. 
 	The squirrels swarmed up the trees and scolded her, and farther overhead than that she heard the harsh, laughing voice of a crow. She could also hear her traveling companions before she was halfway back to the camp. 
 	They were singing rounds. 
 	El en burst into the clearing. â€œCome quickly!â€​par 	Celia and Patrick stood up, and Patrick said, â€œWhereâ€™s Laura?â€​
 	He was taking his commission from Ted seriously. El en felt a twinge of doubt; but in what safer company could she have left Laura? The unicorns might confuse her, but they would never hurt her. Patrick was starting to look murderous, and Celiaâ€™s and Fenceâ€™s expressions to change from exasperation to concern. El en squashed the temptation to make them al squirm, in compensation for not trusting her, and said, â€œSheâ€™s fine. Thereâ€™s a unicorn, and it wants us to tel it everything!â€​par 	â€œI doubt that,â€​aid Fence, dryly. 
 	â€œIâ€™m afraid I made a mess of things,â€ said El en, â€œbut you can tel me about it later. Just come on.â€​par 	While the grown-ups were exchanging a variety of glances and 
 	mutterings, 
 	Patrick 
 	came 
 	over 
 	and 
 	said, 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s going on, El ie?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s your fault,â€ said El en. â€œI was testing a hypothesis. But it was right, and then I had a unicorn to deal with. You canâ€™t just say, â€˜hank you so much, go away nowâ€™ to a unicorn, the way you can with atomic particles.â€​par 	â€œYou canâ€™t say that to them, either,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œThe trouble with you is that you are treating a problem in sociology, or diplomacy, as if it were an exercise in physics. Have a little sense. Atomic particles arenâ€™t sentient.â€​par 	â€œI think magic is like that,â€ said El en. â€œIt seems to have personalities in it.â€ She explained what she had done, and Patrick snorted. 
 	â€œThat wasnâ€™t magic,â€ he said. â€œYou werenâ€™t testing a magical hypothesis. You were justâ€”â€​par 	â€œEl en,â€ said Celia. â€œFence and I had best bear thee company. Patrick, speak not so sharp to thy sister, but help Matthew in the rigging of the tents.â€​par 	â€œHa!â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œGloat not,â€ said Celia. â€œWhatâ€™s this but the very thing Patrick is forbidden to do?â€​par 	El en didnâ€™t know if she meant speaking sharp, or experimenting with the Secret Country. It was not the time to ask. She led Fence and Celia down the steep path to the stream. Laura had sat down; otherwise everything was as it had been. Laura looked around when she heard them, and her face was relieved. 
 	â€œGive you good even,â€​aid Fence to the unicorn. 
 	â€œMy sister speaketh wel of thee,â€ said the unicorn. 
 	El en wondered if it meant Chryse. 
 	â€œI joy to hear it,â€​aid Fence, very gravely. 
 	
 	â€œLady Celia,â€ said the unicorn, â€œwhen thou returnst, do thou sing more merry.â€​par 	â€œAs you wil ,â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œSo, then,â€ said the unicorn, â€œthese are thy counselors?â€​par 	â€œThey are,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œAsk their counsel, then,â€​aid the unicorn. 
 	â€œShould we tel the unicorn who we are?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œMercy, child,â€ said Celia, swiping a loosened strand of yel ow hair off her scarred forehead and sitting down on a rock. A pigeon and two mice scuttered off behind her. The unicorn made a little whistling noise at them, and the mice came out of the clump of asters they had hidden in and sat by Celiaâ€™s right boot. Celia didnâ€™t look at them. â€œHow should I know?â€ she said to El en. â€œThy storyâ€™s odd, but not oâ€™er-merry. How like the unicorns but half a loaf?â€​par 	â€œFence,â€​aid El en, feeling impatient. 
 	â€œHow madest thou this tangle?â€​aid Fence to El en. 
 	â€œOut of curiosity and thoughtlessness,â€ said the unicorn. 
 	â€œIs such advantage to thy credit?â€​emanded Fence. 
 	The unicorn considered him with a large, purple, dubious eye; but when it spoke, it sounded on the verge of laughter. 
 	â€œWeâ€™l take the cash,â€ it said, â€œand let the credit go.â€​par 	 Nor heed the rumble of a distant drum, said some other voice, dimly. El en saw that Laura jumped and Celia rol ed her eyes, and surmised that they had heard it too. 
 	
 	Fence said, â€œThese two are strangers; they know thee not.â€​par 	â€œThey shal ,â€ said the unicorn. â€œWherefore, first must I know them. Tel thy tale, black maiden; thy fair cousinâ€™s cold.â€​par 	 Tomâ€™s a-cold , came the distant voice, that was neither inside your head nor outside it. Do poor Tom some charity, whom the foul fiend vexes. 
 	El en felt rather cold herself. â€œCouldnâ€™t Fence tel it?â€​he said. â€œHeâ€™l take less time than I would.â€​par 	 Loveâ€™s not Timeâ€™s fool, remarked the voice. 
 	â€œHold your tongues,â€​aid the unicorn, mildly. 
 	Everybody was quiet, including the voice. The unicorn said, â€œVery wel , then Fence shal tel â€™t.â€​par 	Celia sat down by Laura; El en, feeling disgraced without knowing what she would have wanted to do differently, stayed lurking in the background with the bolder squirrels; and Fence came to what would have been front stage, center, if the unicorn had been a theatre audience, and began to speak. 
 	He did in fact deliver an admirably abbreviated account of their story; its flaw was that it stated as facts a number of things El en thought were just conjecture. He described their game briefly, and said that the power of their thoughts had been so great that Claudia had become aware of them, and knitted them unawares into her schemes. He said that she had kil ed the real royal children in order to al ow the five who had played them into the Secret Country. Everything else he told scrupulously. 
 	
 	The unicorn stood perfectly stil during this recitation, with its eye bent on Fence in a way El en thought should unnerve him. It looked skeptical, but as if it were wil ing to put up with much for the sake of a good story. When Fence had finished, it said, â€œThis is none of our doing. What name did the red man give himself?â€​par 	Fence looked at Laura, who said, â€œApsinthion.â€​par 	â€œWormwood,â€ said the unicorn. â€œMy lord Fence, knowest thou not that name?â€​par 	Fence stood very stil , in the way he had; then he smacked his hand into his forehead. â€œThe Judge of the Dead,â€
 	he said. â€œOh, this likes me not. Wormwood indeed! 
 	Thatâ€™s the unchanciest power I know.â€​par 	 Let the galled jade wince. The worm is your only emperor for diet, said the distant voice. Others joined it. 
 	 Men have died from time to time, and worms have eaten them, but not for love. Then worms shall try thisâ€” 
 	â€œHold your tongues!â€ said the unicorn in the water, in a way that chil ed El enâ€™s skin like an ice cube going down her back. â€œBe of good cheer, thou wizard. Anyone may put on a name, as one may put on a red robe and an aspect somewhat like thine and somewhat like thy studentâ€™s. Whereâ€™s he?â€​par 	It asked this question reflectively, but El en saw Fence jump. â€œHe goeth south, with an embassy to the Dragon King, whom lately we bested in battle.â€​par 	â€œBid him have a care,â€​aid the unicorn. 
 	There was a long pause; El en saw that Fence was quite simply frozen where he stood, and that Celia was appal ed. 
 	It meant something, then, if a unicorn told someone to have a care. Whom were they talking about? Fenceâ€™s student; was that Ted, or Randolph? Probably Randolph. 
 	Fence gave himself a little shake, and bent his knee. 
 	â€œMore thanks than I can say,â€​e said. 
 	â€œThou shalt say it in time,â€​aid the unicorn. 
 	El en didnâ€™t like the sound of this. She said, â€œExcuse me. Was your answer about the cardinals or your reading of our riddle, or can you tel us more? I mean,â€​he amended hastily, â€œwil you?â€​par 	â€œAsk,â€​aid the unicorn, pleasantly enough. 
 	â€œ Several cardinals have done mysterious things,â€
 	said El en, and weâ€™d like to know on whose orders they did them.â€​par 	â€œSay on.â€​par 	â€œFirst of al ,â€ said El en, â€œin our world, a cardinal showed Ted and Laura the Secret House.â€​par 	â€œSpare those stories,â€ said the unicorn. â€œAl events in your own world you must lay on the doorstep of the Outside Powers. We have no kingdom there.â€​par 	â€œDrat!â€ said El en. â€œSorry. Okay. The first day we came here, Benjamin cross-examined Ted about why he was acting so oddly. And a cardinal whistled, and Benjamin stopped.â€​par 	â€œNay,â€​aid the unicorn. â€œNone of ours.â€​par 	â€œWere any of the ones that rescued us from betraying ourselves yours?â€​par 	â€œHow so, when we knew naught you might betray?â€​par 	The unicornâ€™s words were impatient, but its tone was not. It sounded like somebody musing over his letters in a friendly game of Scrabble. El en decided that she could go on. â€œAl right, then. The strange place, where the air is like a sheet of glass and the sky is the wrong color and you feel too smal , the place Lady Ruth stood in to bargain with the Guardian of the River of King Edwardâ€™s life. She was there another timeâ€”â€​par 	â€œPlaying the fool with Shanâ€™s Ring. We know.â€​par 	â€œThere was a cardinal singing in the yard.â€​par 	â€œThe burden of that song,â€ said the unicorn, rather grimly, â€œwas â€˜et thee gone.â€™â€​par 	â€œThank you,â€ said El en. â€œShe did.â€ She fought down the desire to question the unicorn in detail about the strange place Ruth had visited. That wasnâ€™t in the bargain. She would have to consider careful y just how much any information was worth to her, before she asked the unicorns for more of it. She had known what they were like; she had made much of it up. But, perhaps because she stil felt them to be her own creations, even though she knew better, she had not real y taken them seriously until now. She hoped her frivolity would not cost somebody else dear. 
 	â€œJust a few more,â€ she said. â€œWhat about the cardinal that brought Claudia to Laura, after the Unicorn Hunt?â€​par 	â€œThat cardinal did bring Chryse,â€ said the unicorn. 
 	â€œDid Claudia choose to come, blame not the cardinal.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l tel you something, then,â€ said Laura. El en had almost forgotten she was there. â€œEither Claudia or the cardinal wanted to make me think the cardinal brought her.â€​par 	â€œThe cardinal deceiveth not,â€ said the unicorn. 
 	â€œBut Claudia is a tale-weaver.â€​par 	
 	It sounded definitely, thoroughly, unmistakably amused. 
 	El en was seized with irritation. â€œItâ€™s nothing to snort at,â€ she said. â€œWe are al tale-weavers too, and look what weâ€™ve done. And we didnâ€™t even know. 
 	Claudia knows. What if she weaves a tale about you?â€​par 	â€œShe hath,â€ said the unicorn, with a sort of rippling chuckle like somebody running a hand along the keys of an out-of-tune piano. â€œShe did tel thy fair cousin that al our kind run south for the winter, as if we were the robin or the cuckoo. Yet here am I to jest with thee.â€​par 	â€œNo, no!â€ said El en, exasperated beyond bearing. 
 	â€œShe only said that, off the top of her head. What if she wove a real tale about you, with al her mirrors and her little diamond windows, nudging you around the way she nudged Lord Randolph?â€​par 	There was a very long silence. The forest about them was dark. Their clearing had stil a thin gray light like that of a rainy afternoon. It was not coming from the unicorn precisely; if you looked at the shadows, it appeared to be coming from directly overhead; but up there were only the dark branches of the shadowy trees. El en could see Celiaâ€™s intent, somber profile, and the back of Fenceâ€™s untidy head, and Lauraâ€™s hunched figure with the braids unraveling down her back. Final y Fence stirred. 
 	â€œForgive us,â€ he said, â€œbut I fear me you must think on this.â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said the unicorn. â€œThou thinkst we must fearâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œâ€™Twould serve,â€ said Celia, in the brisk tone of somebody tel ing you to take out the garbage, â€œif thou didst but answer the question.â€​par 	
 	â€œWhat if?â€ said the unicorn. â€œWhat then? Why, then we should see infinite jest and most excel ent fancy.â€
 	It looked from one to the other of them, Celia, Fence, Laura, then El en, with its great purple eyes; and then back, very thoughtful y, at Fence. It bowed its head so low that the fringe of its mane trailed in the water. â€œFare you wel ,â€
 	it said. â€œThis meeting shal cost some dear.â€ It flung its head back and plunged down the stream, showering Fence and Laura with water, sprinkling Celia, and hitting El en with exactly three drops, one in each eye and the third smack on top of her head. 
 	â€œSmart-ass!â€ she muttered, and walked forward to join the others. The unicornâ€™s last statement was profoundly upsetting. â€œFence? What did that mean?â€​par 	â€œI know not,â€ said Fence, shaking water out of his hood. 
 	The gray light lingered behind the unicorn, enclosing them in a cheerless sphere of il umination that made everybody look unhealthy, as fluorescent lights do. Fenceâ€™s round face was hol ow with sheer worry. El en didnâ€™t like to see him looking that way. She put her hand on his shoulder, which she could do easily, she had grown so much this summer. Fence patted the hand and said, â€œIâ€™m yet revolving on an earlier wheel: if the man in red that sent you back in truth is the Judge of the Dead, wherefore should he send you but to ensure Randolphâ€™s death? This Judge did give up Ted, for which Randolph is his payment; maybe he groweth impatient.â€​par 	El en asked a question she had learned to ask. â€œHave I caused a lot of trouble?â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s the question,â€ said Celia. â€œDidst thou cause it, or didst thou but discover it?â€​par 	Laura said, â€œIt was a trap? I made Ted go; he didnâ€™t want to fol ow the cardinal.â€​par 	â€œRemember what the unicorn said,â€ said Fence, smiling at her. â€œAnyone may put on a name. But we shal warn Randolph, and walk warily.â€​par 	â€œAnd tel Matthew,â€​aid Celia. 
 	 Go and tell Lord Grenville, said the distant voice, that the tide is on the turn. 
 	â€œHold your tongue!â€ said El en; and for a wonder, it did. 
 	
 CHAPTER 17

 	LAURA was very sleepy when they got back to camp. While she was gone, Matthew and Patrick had put up two tents whose shadows danced crazily in the firelight, like jigsaw puzzles fal ing and fal ing, on al the trunks of the trees. They were singing. 
 	â€œLord Rameses of Egypt sighed / Because a summer evening passed, / And little Ariadne cried / That summer fancy fel â€”â€​par 	â€œMatthew, for the love of heaven!â€ said Celia, coming forward. â€œThe unicorn hath bid us sing more merry.â€​par 	Matthew stood up to greet her. â€œIf thatâ€™s the worstâ€”no,â€​e said. â€œI see â€™tis not.â€​par 	Celia smiled at him. â€œLetâ€™s sing more merry, and then weâ€™l tel you,â€​he said. 
 	â€œMore merry?â€ said Fence, in tones of disgust. 
 	â€œWeâ€™l give them more merry. An theyâ€™l rant, weâ€™l mouthe as wel as they.â€​par 	Celia sat down next to Laura, Fence on the other side of the fire. 
 	â€œIt isnâ€™t funny,â€​aid El en, in a stifled voice. 
 	â€œI know,â€ said Fence. â€œMatthew, wilt thou sing Terence?â€​par 	Matthew sat down again, between Celia and Fence, and grinned. â€œGladly,â€​e said. â€œCelia?â€​par 	â€œI trust you know what youâ€™re about,â€ said Celia, very dryly. â€œLetâ€™s sing and be done with it.â€​par 	Matthew said, not altogether seriously, â€œSpite the unicorn and drown thyself.â€​par 	â€œThat saying,â€ said Fence, â€œwas made by a unicorn for the jest of watching folk obey it. Sing.â€​par 	And al the grown-ups did. 
 	Â 
 	 â€œTerence, this is stupid stuff: 
 	 You eat your victuals fast enough;  
 	 There canâ€™t be much amiss, â€™tis clear, To see the rate you drink your beer.  
 	 But oh, good Lord, the verse you make, It gives a chap the belly-ache.â€​
 	Â 
 	It was a long song and not, except for the rol icking tune, what Laura would have cal ed merry. It had Milton in it, which was disconcerting. The whole song was disconnected. First they sang about drinking, which was where Milton came in, for some odd reason; then they sang about how the world had far more il in it than good, so that making verse that gives a chap a bel y-ache constituted â€œfriendingâ€ said chap â€œin the dark and cloudy dayâ€; and then they sang a creepy story about a king who ate poison and thus immunized himself against the plots of his enemies. 
 	Â 
 	 â€œThey put arsenic in his meat 
 	 And stared aghast to watch him eat;  
 	 They poured strychnine in his cup 
 	 And shook to see him drink it up.â€​
 	
 	Â 
 	Thank goodness, thought Laura, that Randolphâ€™s not here. She heard Fenceâ€™s light voice falter, when it was he who had proposed the song; he should have remembered what was in it. 
 	Â 
 	 â€œThey shook, they stared, as whiteâ€™s their shirt: 
 	 Them it was their poison hurt.â€​
 	Â 
 	Laura remembered Tedâ€™s account of how Randolph had looked after the poisoning. The trouble was, it wasnâ€™t only Randolph his poison had hurt; the King was dead. Too bad Fence hadnâ€™t sung him this song. But nobody expected Randolph to do such a thing. The Hidden Land was not the East where kings get their fil , before they think, of poisoned meat and poisoned drink. 
 	Â 
 	 â€œâ€”I tell the tale I heard told.  
 	 Mithridates, he died old.â€​
 	Â 
 	â€œWhat a gruesome song!â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œ â€™Twil like the unicorns wel ,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Matthew said, â€œNow, Celia, thy tale?â€​par 	â€œFenceâ€™s, I think,â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œNay, I did tel the last tale needed tel ing,â€ said Fence; â€œmy purse is empty.â€​par 	â€œAs empty as the ocean when three little boats have brought home a good catch,â€ said Celia, rather sharply, â€œbut as you wil .â€​par 	As Celia spoke, Laura watched Matthewâ€™s face, with its sardonic bones and deep eyes. He was utterly impassive until Celia came to the part where the unicorn said that Randolph should have a care. Then he put a hand over his eyes. 
 	â€œShanâ€™s mercy!â€ said Matthew. â€œWhat hath Randolph done?â€​par 	â€œHe hath made an unwise bargain with the Judge of the Dead,â€ said Fence, with a perfect tranquility that made Lauraâ€™s eyes prick with tears. Celia looked up with a stricken face. 
 	â€œThe bargain for Edwardâ€™s life,â€ said Matthew, in a throttled voice. â€œNo; for Tedâ€™s?â€​par 	â€œâ€™Twas for Edwardâ€™s life,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œAnd Randolph did agree?â€​aid Matthew. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Fence, bitterly, â€œdid suggest it.â€​par 	â€œAnd Edward did agree?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€​aid Fence. â€œNor Ted neither.â€​par 	â€œHow then cal this a bargain?â€​par 	Patrick made a restless movement; El en thrust an elbow into his side; he turned his head and gave her a steady, opaque look. Underlit by the fire, his face was much older. 
 	â€œTedâ€™s alive,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œBut Randolph did promise for Edwardâ€™s life?â€​par 	â€œNow look,â€​aid El en. 
 	
 	â€œHush,â€ said Matthew. â€œThey err but seldom. 
 	Cannot we turn this to some good account?â€​par 	â€œRandolph may do so, at the Gray Lake,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œBut the unicorn saith, he must have a care?â€​par 	Somewhere nearby, muffled, two notes sounded, as if someone had begun to play a flute and given up. Celia jumped up and ran for the pile of baggage, from which she returned carrying the flute of Cedric and a large, flat leather pouch. The flute played two more notes as she sat down, and two more. Laura recognized, with resignation, that it was playing â€œThe Minstrel Boy.â€ â€œThe minstrel boy to the warâ€​as as far as it had gotten. 
 	Celia took a sheet of thick paper from the pouch and flattened it out on the rock she had been sitting on. Then she removed, to Lauraâ€™s astonishment, a little jar of ink and a pen. She fil ed the pen, held it ready over the paper, and with her other hand held out the flute. â€œCome, Laura,â€
 	she said. 
 	Laura got up, walked slowly around the fire, and took the flute. It was as cold as if it had been carved out of ice. She said, â€œDo I play â€˜he Minstrel Boyâ€™?â€​par 	â€œAye,â€ said Celia. â€œAs many times over as thou art moved.â€​par 	This turned out to be six, by which time Lauraâ€™s fingers were numb and her lips burned. 
 	â€œThere!â€ said Celia, laying down the pen and shaking her hand. 
 	Laura fol owed this example. There was a constriction in her chest like the feeling a bout of bronchitis had once given her. She wondered if they had antibiotics here. 
 	Celia waved the paper in the air gently, and laid it down on the rock again. Fence and Patrick joined her. Matthew pressed gently on Lauraâ€™s shoulder until she sat down, and then handed her a tin cup of tea. 
 	â€œSomethingâ€™s amiss,â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œRead it,â€ said Matthew; he was watching to see if Laura would drink the tea, so she drank some hastily. 
 	Celia read it. 
 	Â 
 	â€œBelaparthalion lived alone. 
 	 The wind blows the sand about.  
 	Belaparthalion cracked dry bones. 
 	 The waves on the shore run in and out.  
 	Belaparthalion cracked dry jests. 
 	 The unicorns rhyme in Griseous Lake.  
 	Three wizards came at his behest. 
 	 The dry bones in the desert bake.â€​
 	Â 
 	â€œThat doesnâ€™t fit the tune!â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œNot wel , no,â€ said Celia. â€œSometimes that canâ€™t be helped. But look you, al the message is but those verses, writ thrice oâ€™er.â€​par 	â€œBelaparthalion,â€ 
 	said 
 	Matthew, 
 	thoughtful y. 
 	â€œThink you it likes him not that we flute his name hither and yon?â€​par 	â€œWhy should they flute his name in the first place?â€
 	demanded Patrick. â€œI thought they were going to the Gray Lake and then to the Dragon King.â€​par 	
 	â€œGriseous Lake!â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œAye; â€™tis the same,â€ said Celia. â€œThey wil not arrive there for some several days.â€​par 	â€œBut Belaparthalion?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œWhat makes you think the real message was about Belaparthalion?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œThe very alteration of such a message,â€ said Matthew, â€œdoth feed on its original. None may alter it into utter falsehood.â€​par 	â€œCould we send them a message back asking what the hel they think theyâ€™re doing?â€​aid El en. 
 	Celia looked around and grinned at her. â€œNot this night,â€ she said. â€œLaura and I are weary. We must send the warning to Randolph, thatâ€™s more urgent. 
 	Laura, canst thou play â€˜eat oâ€™ the Sunâ€™? One verse only; that one begins, â€˜o exorciser harm thee.â€™
 	Randolph wil know whatâ€™s meant byâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œI think so,â€​aid Laura, reluctantly. 
 	â€œNo!â€ said Fence. â€œNot that. â€™Twil be misconstrued.â€​par 	â€œWhat, then?â€ said Celia; she was clearly puzzled, but wil ing to let Fence have his way since he spoke so vehemently. 
 	Fence pressed his fingers to his eyes, the way Lauraâ€™s mother would do when she had a headache. 
 	â€œLaura, canst thou play â€˜hat if a Dayâ€™?â€​par 	Laura thought about it, and the fingerings rose from the bottom of her mind like fish coming up in clear water when you drop the breadcrumbs in. â€œYes,â€ she said. She was very tired. 
 	â€œThe second chorus,â€ said Fence. â€œAs slowly as liketh thee.â€​par 	Laura picked up the flute and almost dropped it, it was so cold and her fingers so sore. But once she had gotten them placed for the first note, they played of themselves. The words ran along in her mind. All is hazard that we have, /
 	 There is nothing biding; / Days of pleasure are like streams / Through fair meadows gliding. / Weal and woe, time doth go, / Time is never turning; / Secret fates guide our states, / Both in mirth and mourning. 
 	â€œMany thanks,â€ said Fence, and he picked up the hand from which the flute was drooping and kissed it, with a flourish. Laura would have enjoyed this more if he had not also deftly taken the flute from her and given it to Celia. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Celia. â€œThis bargain for Tedâ€™s life.â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s done,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Matthew looked at him. â€œLetâ€™s consider this false message,â€​e said. 
 	Patrick suggested that it was in fact the true beginning of the message Randolph had sent; Celia said Claudia was too canny for that. There was an argument concerning whether it was Claudia who had interfered. The only conclusion Matthew, Fence, and Celia could agree on was that Belaparthalion had had some jest with Randolph and that Belaparthalion had not been at his best when he had it. 
 	Their reasoning was obscure, and their attempts to explain it worse. 
 	â€œExplain something else to me,â€ said Patrick, who had been pestering them the most, and who usual y knew when it would be best to stop. 
 	â€œAsk it,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œHow could you forget the Judge of the Deadâ€™s name?â€​par 	Fenceâ€™s face cleared; Laura wondered what he had thought Patrick would ask. â€œThe Judge of the Dead hath a hundred names,â€ he said. â€œI learned them when I was ten years old, and have had little enough use for them since. Also, Apsinthion is a jesting name, by which you would not address or invoke that power; and so â€™tis of little matter.â€​par 	â€œHe would use it outside, to the children,â€​aid Celia, in the tone Ruth would use to say, â€œThatâ€™s just like Patrick.â€​par 	â€œIs the Judge of the Dead a unicorn?â€​sked El en. 
 	â€œNay, naught so solid,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œHe seems to have the same sort of sense of humor.â€​par 	â€œThe unicorns did choose the name,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œWhyâ€™d he let them?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œAsk him when thou meetest him,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œI did undertake to answer one question, and that from thy brother.â€​e spoke lightly; but Laura shivered. 
 	El en returned to the previous subject. â€œCanâ€™t we just send a quick message asking what they meant to tel us?â€​par 	â€œYou,â€ said Celia, rounding on her, â€œare in no case to ask for favors. Do you consider yourself under the same stricture as your brother touching experimentation.â€
 	She rol ed the word around in her mouth as if it tasted sour. 
 	That tone of voice and the use of the rebuking â€œyouâ€
 	would have shrivel ed Laura up like a raisin. El en said, â€œButâ€”â€​par 	â€œDo you so consider yourself.â€​par 	â€œYes! I wonâ€™t meddle anymore. But canâ€™t we justâ€”â€​par 	â€œTomorrow,â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œGrown-ups 
 	everywhere,â€ 
 	said 
 	El en. 
 	â€œYouâ€™re al alike.â€​par 	â€œTo bed,â€ said Celia, whereupon both El en and Laura burst out laughing. 
 	â€œArenâ€™t we going to set a watch?â€ asked Patrick. 
 	â€œAgainst what?â€ said Fence. â€œCanst thou prevent a pouring of poetry into the porches of our dreaming ears, by al means make thy dispositions.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l think about it,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	Fence only chuckled. They al went to bed, the children in one tent and the grown-ups in the other; and if anybody poured poetry into Lauraâ€™s dreaming ears, she did not notice. She dreamt that she was back in school and had forgotten her homework. She woke up in a cold sweat to El enâ€™s snoring, and Patrickâ€™s light breathing, and a dapple of moonlight on the blackened remnants of the fire. 
 	The weather had cleared, and nobody cared that she had not looked up twenty-five botanical terms in the dictionary and copied down their major definitions in a clear hand with no mistakes in the spel ing. Nobody was bothering her at al ; but everybody else was bothered. Laura stared at the dark and tried to decide which was worse, and fel asleep again. 
 	
 CHAPTER 18

 	WHEN the song that summoned her came next, it was not from a dream. Claudia walked down the hal to her back room, and laid a hand upon the yielding glass, and smiled. 
 	The summons was stronger than the spel that kept her here. 
 	It might be that she had a choice of where to go, that the summons, being played not by intention but in ignorance, might unlock al her windows. She cal ed the cats, quickly; three of them came. She moved her hand on the glass a little, and said, â€œKrupton Chorion.â€​par 	She stepped through, the three cats winding about her ankles like some benign variation of the Nightmare Grass. 
 	She stood in the back room of her whole, clean, true house in the Hidden Land, and knew that someone had been here. 
 	 Someone, said the voices, fading, has been sitting in my chair. 
 	The cats, pleased to be home, purred thunderously. She could stil feel the summons. It had no physical power, but it cal ed monotonously, like a cat in a locked room. It came to Claudia that it might benefit her to know where her summoner, however unconscious, was. She moved in the direction of the cal ing voice, and peered into the little diamond pane toward which it guided her. The stuff of the pane wavered like water. She saw the false Laura just putting the flute away beneath the huge trees of the Enchanted Forest. But she saw also, fading in and out like an agitated water-beast, the counterfeit Lady Ruth in the parlor of this very house, under the ceiling painted with goldenrod, playing a mundane flute. Andrew was tardy; or disobedient; or likeliest of al , cautious. She snatched at the poem as it ran between the shivering lines of the two scenes she saw, snapped it off short, and let the greater part of it fal back into the house. 
 	It spoke tuneful y out of the sunny air of her porch, in the mingled voices of Randolph and Andrew and others she did not know. She heard it through and laughed. Andrew had not been disobedient, nor very cautious. His abominable rhymes had let her catch the song and turn it aside. 
 	She took her hand from the window, which settled into the scene of the Enchanted Forest. Claudia looked at it, and frowned. â€œPast,â€ she said, â€œpassing, or to come?â€​par 	She went quickly into the kitchen. The sink was ful of scraped dishes, and a smel lingered of garlic and tomatoes. 
 	â€œPast,â€​aid Claudia. â€œBelaparthalion.â€​par 	She ran across her front hal and took the steps two at a time, not because she thought she could do anything but because she was too curious to go slowly. The cats bounded after her; this was a game they liked. One last lone voice said thoughtful y, With help of her most potent ministers, / And in her most unmitigable rage. 
 	They had spoken to Belaparthalion, but they had not released him. She strode around to lean on the window, and addressed his remote, red, whiskered face. â€œDidst thou not fix them with thy glittering eye?â€​he said. 
 	The englobed dragon was like a carved and enameled piece of jewelry. The light of the globe was as gray as the moon. She waited, and slowly the golden color flooded back, and the dragon closed its red-and-black striped lids, opened them again, and smiled. â€œDid thy sojourn like thee,â€​e said, â€œin thy old house?â€​par 	â€œLiketh thine thee, in thy new house with my sputtering beasts?â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™re wel enough,â€​e said. 
 	â€œIs thy power so minished that thou couldst not bring thy minions to release thee?â€​par 	â€œMy power is so wel kept,â€ said he, â€œthat I did persuade them from that rescue. I know this prison cel , and I know you. Iâ€™l come forth in my true shape, or not at al .â€​par 	â€œAnd shal Chryse come for thee?â€​par 	But he would not answer her. 
 	
 CHAPTER 19

 	ON their second night, the embassy to the Dragon King camped on the enormous plain of waist-high grass from which, farther south, the mountains would rise with great abruptness. 
 	The air was very stil and crisp, and the huge stars of the Secret Country sprinkled the darkening sky. Ted looked at the circle around the fire, and grinned despite himself. They were arranged in such a way as to make everybody unhappy. He was sitting between Andrew and Randolph. 
 	Ruth was on Andrewâ€™s other side, but Andrew couldnâ€™t bother her because on Ruthâ€™s other side was Dittany, who had noticed that Ruth disliked Andrew, and seemed to take pleasure in getting in his way. Ted couldnâ€™t talk to Randolph about anything important because on Randolphâ€™s other side was Julian; Julian was made uncomfortable by having to sit next to Stephen, who had annoyed him the first day out with some theory of farming. Stephen had to put up with Julianâ€™s refusal to discuss his theory, and also with the presence of Dittany, who cal ed him â€œBoggyâ€â€”presumably because mal ows grow in marshesâ€”and only laughed in genuine delight when Stephen snarlingly addressed her as â€œDropsyâ€â€”presumably because peonies fal over in midsummer. But Dittany had to put up with Jerome, who didnâ€™t think there was any dignity in the entire exchange; while Jerome had to put up with the exchange on one side, and a lack of attention from Dittany on the other, because Dittany was keeping Andrew from bothering Ruth. 
 	Ted laughed. Everybody instantly looked at him. He watched them formulating various ways of saying â€œWhatâ€™s so funny?â€ and decided to forestal them. 
 	â€œLook at us!â€ he said. â€œWe ought to be hung on a wal to scare the crows. We were merrier than this when we rode to lose our lives.â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™ve sent al the musicians north, thatâ€™s it,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œYou rate yourself too low, my lady,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œYouâ€™ve brought your flute, havenâ€™t you?â€
 	said Ted. 
 	Ruth shot him a furious look. He wondered too late if it would be better, on principle, not to fal in with anything Andrew wanted, no matter how innocent. 
 	â€œThat fluteâ€™s for messages,â€ Ruth said, flatly, â€œand al my musical talent is for magic. Youâ€™d ratherâ€”youâ€™d rather hear your dog bark at a crow,â€
 	she finished, somewhat hysterical y, â€œthan me play a song thatâ€™s not a spel .â€​par 	â€œWhat of â€˜ing Conradâ€™s Last Journeyâ€™?â€
 	said Andrew. His voice was pleasant, his tone helpful. But there was something in it more than friendly; Tedâ€™s mother would sometimes say mundane things to his father in a tone like that. He had the awful feeling that Ruth had been right about Lady Ruth; certainly she was right about Andrewâ€™s attitude toward that enigmatic person. 
 	Ruth sat absolutely stil , staring at Andrew. Ted could see her face quite wel in the firelight; she had no expression at al . Then, slowly, the corner of her mouth curved up, in a smile Ted had never seen in al the years of their acquaintance. 
 	
 	â€œThatâ€™s true, my lord,â€​he said, lightly. â€œI had forgot. Iâ€™l play that tune, an al do wil it.â€​par 	There was a chorus of assent, half-polite and half-eager. 
 	Ruth started to get up to fetch the flute and was forestal ed by Andrew. Andrew was then beaten to the baggage by Stephen, who either was developing a crush on Ruth himself or had heard that tone in Andrewâ€™s voice and decided, like Dittany, that Ruth didnâ€™t care for it. Ted groaned inwardly. Why, oh, why, had they ever wanted to put any romantic complications in the blasted game? And what the hel did Ruth think she was going to play on that flute? He didnâ€™t know any song cal ed â€œKing Conradâ€™s Last Journey,â€ and he would bet that Ruth didnâ€™t either. Ted put his face in his hands suddenly; he was going to laugh or shriek, he wasnâ€™t sure which. Ruth might not know that song; but Lady Ruth would. Had that smile been hers? Were these dribs and drabs of knowledge broadening into some insidious possession? 
 	Randolph laid a hand on Tedâ€™s knee, and Ted almost jumped out of his skin. â€œWhatâ€™s amiss?â€ said Randolph, very quietly. Andrew had not sat back down, but was looking thoughtful y after Stephen. 
 	â€œDidnâ€™t you see her look at him?â€ breathed Ted. 
 	â€œRuthie never looked like that in her life; that was Lady Ruth in the back of her head.â€​par 	Randolph raised both eyebrows, but was prevented from saying anything else. Stephen had come back with the flute, which returned Andrewâ€™s attention to Tedâ€™s immediate vicinity. 
 	Ruth unwrapped the flute, put it together, warmed it briefly, and, without any other preliminary, began to play â€œGood King Wenceslas.â€ Ted, confounded, looked around the circle. Nobody seemed surprised. Eventual y they al began to sing. 
 	Â 
 	 â€œConrad lived in yonder wood,  
 	 Conrad spurned his kingdom;  
 	 Conrad thought on Chryseâ€™s blood;  
 	 Messengers did fear him. 
 	Â 
 	 Softly shone the moon that night,  
 	 Though the frost was cruel;  
 	 Seven came by candlelight,  
 	 Gathering winter fuel.â€​
 	Oh, fine, thought Ted. Itâ€™s even got some lines from the real song. What the hel is going on here? Claudia didnâ€™t explain the half of it. Maybe she didnâ€™t even do the half of it. Iâ€™m going to go crazy if we canâ€™t figure this out. 
 	The song went on forever. If Andrew had real y wanted to cheer people up, he had chosen a good way to do it. They were al singing; and though the song didnâ€™t have a chorus, it used three repeating verses, which came not at regular intervals, but rather on some cue Ted could not figure out. The singers themselves were always guessing wrong or coming in late, and they seemed to be enjoying themselves hugely. Even Randolph was smiling, although he sang only when nobody else could remember the words. 
 	Ted couldnâ€™t decide what the song was about. It was a rambling tale of various adventures, but the main point of it seemed to be that, once King Conrad became enraged about whatever it was that had made him spurn his kingdom, it was impossible for anybody he knew to talk to him. He was fol owed in al his doings by pages and messengers from his court, asking advice on how to run the country; but he wouldnâ€™t answer them, or they were plagued by interruptions whenever they seemed to have worn him down, or they couldnâ€™t find him at al . And as soon as the people he met became friends instead of strangers, they would decide that he real y ought to go back and run his kingdom, whereupon he would refuse to speak to them and they too would fal prey to the misfortunes that dogged his messengers. The crowd of people trying to fol ow him became larger and larger, and they began to quarrel among themselves. It was an amusing song, but there was something disquieting about it. 
 	He looked at Randolph, who was sitting with his arms around his knees. His hood hid his face, but the moment Ted moved he leaned over and said, â€œWhatâ€™s the matter now?â€ He was not exasperated; he sounded as if things being the matter was the way of the world and it was to Tedâ€™s credit to have noticed. 
 	â€œThis song bothers me,â€​aid Ted, speaking softly. 
 	â€œWhich of your play-makers now?â€​par 	â€œNone of them. I know the tune, and some of the lines, but not the story. Is this a normal kind of song for the Hidden Land?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Randolph; â€œbut Conrad was no normal kind of king.â€​par 	Somebody touched Ted on the shoulder; he looked around wildly, and Andrew let go of him and laid one finger across his own mouth in a gesture that any parent might have used. 
 	
 	â€œSorry,â€ whispered Ted. He turned back to Randolph and said, â€œOur talkâ€™s a trial to Lord Andrew; wil you walk apart with me?â€​par 	Randolph grinned at him, the grin that made you feel pleased and clever and as if the world were not in such bad shape after al . â€œGladly,â€ said Randolph, and got up, and gave his hand to Ted. Ted needed the help; one of his feet had fal en asleep, and he felt, of a sudden, shaky inside, as if Andrew had given him an ominous look instead of a mildly rebuking one. 
 	They walked away from the fire, fol owing a little path in the grass that the army had made when it camped here, and that animals, or perhaps other human wanderers, had kept clear until now. Ted trudged al the way to the quarry, Randolph behind him. Their breath steamed in the starlight. 
 	A few late insects creaked industriously. The quarry was a circle of quivering silver surrounded by ghostly white rocks. 
 	Ted sat down on one of these, and Randolph sat down beside him. 
 	â€œWhat was the matter with Conrad?â€ said Ted. He added, â€œWhich Conrad was this? The one who wouldnâ€™t mend the Great South Door?â€​par 	â€œNay; his grandson,â€ said Randolph. â€œThe fourth of that name. He was King when Melanie and her brothers did murder the unicorn.â€​par 	â€œDid he think it was his fault?â€​par 	Randolph nodded inside his hood. â€œSome had warned him; but he so trusted the brothers of Melanie that he did summon and ask them if this were truth. And they said it was not; and so the Hunt was held as always, and the unicorn kil ed.â€​par 	
 	â€œSo,â€ said Ted, â€œhe decided he would never listen to anybody he knew? Thatâ€™s just like somebody in a fairy tale.â€​par 	â€œKnowing he had given his trust amiss,â€ said Randolph, rather sharply, â€œhow could he bestow it again?â€​par 	So that was what was the matter with him. â€œThatâ€™s foolish,â€ said Ted. â€œDid he expect never to make any mistakes?â€​par 	â€œSome must not be made,â€ said Randolph, with finality. 
 	Ted did not have the courage to argue further. â€œWhy did Andrew want Ruth to play the song?â€​par 	â€œHe trusted the Lady Ruth, and thinketh now that she doth betray him,â€ said Randolph, slowly. â€œAlso, very like, to sting me. He knows the King did trust me and I did betray him.â€​par 	Ted reflected that a great many kings seemed to have been betrayed in the Hidden Land, one way or another. He said, â€œRuthâ€™s afraid weâ€™l meet the King in the land of the dead.â€​par 	â€œHer fear is my hope.â€​par 	â€œAre you mad?â€​par 	â€œNot now,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œFence told youâ€”â€​egan Ted, and stopped. 
 	â€œOh, I may do nothing; I have promised,â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œWherefore 
 	my 
 	hope 
 	lieth 
 	in 
 	thy
 	mischance.â€​par 	â€œThanks a lot.â€​par 	
 	Randolph did not trouble to answer this, which was probably just as wel . Ted looked at him, but there was nothing to see. He sat stil , as he had sat beside the fire, his hands laced around his knees and his hood half over his face. 
 	If Ted had stil been Edwardâ€”if Randolph had thought he was, he amended quicklyâ€”he would have had no qualms about tel ing Randolph that he was on no account to so much as wish for death. As Ted, he felt he had no rights one way or the other. And it was painful to speak of Edward, who might come back and might not. And who, if he did, might very wel kil Randolph. Ted stared gloomily across the shining surface of the water to the high white cliffs opposite, muffled in starlight and a little mist. It looked like the land of the dead here and now. If he closed his eyes halfway, he would see the shapes of the rocks waver and grow familiar, and would meet himself and the counterparts of his four relations. 
 	â€œJesus 
 	Christ!â€ 
 	said 
 	Ted, 
 	and 
 	grabbed
 	Randolphâ€™s arm. â€œWe canâ€™t take Andrew down there! He may or may not see the dead King and ask him awkward questions; but heâ€™s bound to see the dead children; we need to talk to them. Oh, criminy, what a dul pupil youâ€™ve got yourself. When do you suppose Iâ€™l bethink myself what to do about it?â€​par 	â€œTheyâ€™re singing stil ,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ted took a deep breath. â€œAl right,â€ he said, trying to think like Patrick. â€œEither we come up with a good reason to keep him out, orâ€”or we tel him the truth. Why is it, Randolph, that in the Hidden Land one is always faced with such wonderful choices?â€​par 	
 	â€œIs it otherwise in your country?â€​par 	â€œWel , probably not. But it was for me, except in the game.â€ Ted shoved his hood back. â€œExcept in the damn game,â€​e repeated, bitterly. 
 	â€œAn this were yet thy game, what wouldst thou choose?â€​par 	â€œOh, if it were the game, it would be easy. Weâ€™d think of an ingenious excuse to keep Andrew outside, but something would happen that would oblige him to disobey, and heâ€™d come and figure everything out and be mad as hel .â€​par 	â€œTruly?â€​par 	â€œTruly, my lord. Because that would be more interesting.â€​par 	â€œAnd now?â€​par 	â€œAnd now,â€ said Ted, â€œI think weâ€™d better tel Andrew the truth.â€​par 	â€œThereâ€™s no interest in that course, then?â€
 	Randolph sounded as if he were about to laugh. 
 	â€œLess, anyway. Heâ€™l want to come to the land of the dead just so he can sneer at it. Heâ€™d hate making the discovery down there and being made to look like a fool. 
 	And heâ€™s already suspicious; if we tel him now, and let him think this is what everybody is nervous about, maybe heâ€™l let his suspicions about the Kingâ€™s death lie quiet a little longer.â€​par 	â€œThat he discover my crime is a greater evil than that he discover thy nature?â€​par 	â€œDamn right,â€​aid Ted. 
 	
 	Randolph was silent. 
 	â€œWel , isnâ€™t it? What would he do?â€​par 	â€œRefuse thy orders.â€​par 	â€œFine. He has to take yours, doesnâ€™t he?â€​par 	â€œSo long as he proveth not my crime.â€​par 	â€œWel , he canâ€™t prove it, can he?â€​par 	â€œI know not. He hath with him on this journey, by his own request, Julian and Jerome, who do not love me.â€​par 	â€œWel , if he wonâ€™t take my orders and he wonâ€™t take yours, whose would he have to take?â€​par 	Randolph pushed his own hood back and shoved both hands through his hair, exactly as El en would do. â€œHis own.â€​par 	â€œWhich is al right, or not, depending on whether he is in fact spying for the Dragon King.â€​par 	â€œAye. We might do better to let him discover the truth by seeing those children below the earth.â€​par 	â€œWel , if they tel him his sister kil ed them, maybe heâ€™l think again about whatever plots he has with her.â€​par 	Randolph looked thoughtful. â€œAye. Our word would not suffice. He and Claudia are very fond.â€​par 	â€œHow the hel can they be very fond when sheâ€™s the most powerful sorcerer in the entire place and he doesnâ€™t even believeâ€”oh, never mind,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t want to know. Al right, let him find out the hard way.â€​par 	â€œWhat troubleth thee else?â€​par 	â€œRuth,â€ said Ted. â€œWhy did she smile like that? 
 	
 	Did Lady Ruth ever smile like that?â€​par 	â€œI never saw her so,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œDo you know anything about this contriving of Melanieâ€™s, this stuff in the back of the head?â€​par 	â€œHow should I?â€ said Randolph. â€œWhen in al our history have we had strangers that are the doubles of our dead to walk among us?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l talk to Ruth, then; I want to know what she thinks happened.â€​par 	There was a meditative and uncomfortable pause. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, â€œnow you know what al Iâ€™m worrying about. What are you worrying about?â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™ve heard naught from Fence,â€ said Randolph, at once. 
 	â€œCould our message have gone astray? Should we send it again?â€​par 	â€œThereâ€™s little harm in the trying,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	They sat on amid the cold rocks. The nearby singing broke up in laughter. Somewhere in the distances of Tedâ€™s mind, Edward said, I will friend you, if I may, in the dark and cloudy day.  The singing began again. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t cal us,â€ said Ted, a little wildly, â€œweâ€™l cal you.â€​par 	â€œWhatâ€™s that?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œEdward just offered to friend me in the dark and cloudy day.â€​par 	â€œI knew not he spoke to thee as wel as in thee.â€​par 	â€œWel , thatâ€™s a recent development. And, having watched Ruthieâ€™s face this evening, I donâ€™t think I like it.â€​par 	Randolph pushed his hood back and looked at Ted for a moment. His pale face was al angles in the moonlight, and the curling black hair stuck to his forehead as it would stick to Ruthâ€™s or El enâ€™s. His eyes were shadowed. He said, â€œSpoke Edward thus? â€˜ wil friend you, if I may, in the dark and cloudy dayâ€™?â€​par 	â€œYes, exactly,â€​aid Ted, rather unsettled. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s from a song,â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œCanst tel Edward from the other voices in thy mind?â€​par 	â€œI never had any voices in my mind until I came to this mad country!â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThou canst not, then?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Ted, ashamed of his irritation. â€œI thought it was al Edward. What else could it be?â€​par 	â€œWhen we come to Gray Lake,â€ said Randolph, â€œI wil know.â€​par 	â€œAnd when thou knowest, oh counselor, wilt thou tel me?â€​par 	â€œOf a certainty,â€ said Randolph; and in his voice was something Ted found very comforting, and something he found fearful. Neither of them said anything more. 
 	
 CHAPTER 20

 	ON the northern partyâ€™s third day of travel, they descended into Fenceâ€™s Country. Laura squinted at the trees, the smooth, sharp green of the pines, the violent red of the fire-maples, the deeper red and sul en brown of the oaks, the paleness of birch branches from which the yel ow leaves hung like coins. Princess Laura had been here once. 
 	They went down and up and down again, for three hours, leading the horses, and then struck a road. It was narrow, its cracked slabs of stone wedged in lopsidedly between the hil s and the river. They were able to ride again, which was a mixed blessing. In another hour the road brought them to a town. 
 	Laura was astonished. She had never in al the Secret Country seen a town. This one had a grim-looking wal around it on three sides; on the fourth was the river. The hil s above the wal were striped with stubble fields and tidy rows of grotesque apple trees. The wal had a gatehouse with a tower. The town was three streets wide and four long, with two wooden piers and smal boats moored to them. Its houses were of stone, some with thatched roofs, some with slate. Laura could see a man working in a bed of dark red flowers; and two children throwing a stick for a dog; and a cat sitting atop one of the crenel ations of the gatehouse, washing its foot. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s that?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œFeren,â€​aid Fence. 
 	They rode up the road toward the gate. Fence stopped them about ten feet away from it, rummaging in his belt-pouch. While they waited, the heavy door of the gatehouse creaked its way up, and a man ran out. He wore a brown tunic and breeches and a red cape. He had brown hair, and a brown beard, and very large blue eyes. To Lauraâ€™s relief, he did not remind her of anyone. 
 	â€œMilord Fence!â€ he cal ed. â€œWhatâ€™s amiss? 
 	Hathâ€”â€ He stopped, staring not at any of the party, but at their horses. â€œWho are you?â€​par 	â€œYour lord Fence,â€ said Fence, and held out the ring he had taken from his pouch. It was of twisted silver, with a blue stone that, just at the moment, glowed faintly. The sun had disappeared behind the trees, and the ring in Fenceâ€™s grimy hand looked like the first star of evening wandered from its appointed rounds. 
 	The man in the road must have thought it looked like something else. His face was sick. â€œWe have your horses within,â€​e said. â€œYou took the boats and rowed upriver two hours since.â€​par 	â€œAnd had I this ring then?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œMilord, you did not. Yourâ€”their answers came so pat; they knew my name, they knew of your letters.â€​par 	â€œAnd,â€ said Celia, â€œthere was a kind of glamour on them that so pleased you, you considered not, but obeyed them.â€​par 	The manâ€™s face relaxed, as if he recognized in Celia somebody who could put matters right. â€œYou know our weakness,â€​e said. 
 	Celia smiled. â€œEveryone born in this country were wel advised to spend a century outside it. Exile sharpeneth the eyes.â€​par 	
 	â€œAnd the wits,â€ said the man in the road, as if he were capping a quotation. He looked back at Fence. 
 	â€œMilord, I am sorry for our carelessness. I think your foes are very great. Wil you take their horses?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l take my boats,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œYouâ€™l take your money, an it please you,â€ said the man; â€œbut the boats are taken already.â€​par 	Fence pressed one palm to his forehead and let his breath out. â€œMatthew?â€​e said. â€œCelia?â€​par 	â€œI think we must ride,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	â€œThe roadâ€™s good,â€ said the man. â€œâ€™Twil take you halfway to the house of Belaparthalion.â€​par 	â€œHave you lodging for the night,â€ said Fence, â€œor is that taken also?â€​par 	â€œThat we have,â€​aid the man. 
 	â€œDeliver it, then,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œIs there time for this?â€​aid Matthew. 
 	â€œThe horses need rest, if we do not,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Matthew smiled. â€œTake the horses of those that removed our boats.â€​par 	â€œTake them by al means,â€ said the man in the road. 
 	â€œWe have little enough fodder for our own beasts; and though weâ€™re wel paid to house these, neither we nor they can eat silver.â€​par 	â€œCelia?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t advise it,â€ said Celia. â€œTheyâ€™re too like to turn to sticks and land us in the river; or worse, drown al our victuals there.â€​par 	
 	â€œWe could send our message, if weâ€™re somewhere Lauraâ€™s fingers can thaw out,â€​aid El en. 
 	Lauraâ€™s fingers were not so much cold as sore and swol en, but she supposed they would perform better in a heated room. 
 	Matthew looked at his wife; she raised her eyebrows; Matthew sighed heavily and turned to Fence. â€œKnow you this man?â€ he said, gesturing at the man in the road, who stood comfortably with the air of somebody watching a medium-good magic show. 
 	â€œAs wel as he knoweth me.â€​par 	â€œWhich is to say, not wel enough?â€​par 	If anybody had spoken about Laura in that tone of voice, she would have been indignant, whether she understood what was being said or not. The man in the road looked resigned. Fence said to him, â€œWil you, of your courtesy, bring the horses to us here?â€​par 	â€œAn you take them away, aye.â€​par 	â€œUntil I see them, I know not or I shal or I shal not take them.â€​par 	â€œWhy are you so eager to get rid of them?â€ said Patrick to the man in the road. 
 	Laura thought this was a shrewd question. The man in the road said, â€œAs I did say, we have not their maintenance.â€​par 	â€œWhyâ€™d you take them, then?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œFor that they did, we thought, belong to your party, toward whom we have some obligation.â€​par 	Fence said, â€œAn we take them not, Iâ€™l leave you a letter wherewith you may have from High Castle the fodder to maintain those beasts the winter.â€​par 	The man moved his thoughtful blue gaze from Matthewâ€™s irate countenance to Celiaâ€™s judicious face, past Patrickâ€™s considering expression and El enâ€™s delighted grin. He glanced briefly at Laura, who tried to look alert but feared it had come out startled. Final y, last of al , he looked at Fence. Fence quirked the corner of his mouth. 
 	â€œIâ€™l bring them,â€ said the man, turned smartly, and went back through the gate. 
 	â€œAl right, quickly,â€ said Patrick. â€œWhat is going on here?â€​par 	â€œI sent letters,â€ said Fence, â€œasking for the hire of three boats. A party in our likeness hath come before us and taken the boats, leaving behind their horses, which belike are no horses at al .â€​par 	â€œAnd do you think you know who this party was?â€​par 	â€œI know what they were,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œShape-changers,â€​aid El en. â€œSince they came in our likeness, you know,â€​he added to Laura. 
 	â€œDoes that mean the Dragon King sent them?â€ said Patrick. 
 	Laura didnâ€™t want to think about it. Apparently Fence didnâ€™t either; he got down off his horse and handed his reins to Celia. Matthew did the same. Laura wondered what Celia could be expected to do if one of the four horses she was suddenly in charge of took fright or felt perverse. But the horses just nosed about the road and bit off the grass in its cracks, seeming far more disposed to go to sleep than to cause trouble. Perhaps Celia had been taking lessons from Benjamin. 
 	The man in brown and two children in yel ow came back out of the gate, leading three nondescript brown horses. 
 	One had a white blotch on its nose and another had three white stockings. They looked as bored as the Secret Country horses. But the Secret Country horses suddenly flared their nostrils and put their ears back and showed the whites of their eyes. Laura felt the one she and Patrick were sitting on jump and tremble. Celia said something in some language Laura didnâ€™t recognize, and the horses stood stil ; but they kept their ears back and looked distinctly uneasy. 
 	â€œNo closer,â€​aid Fence. 
 	The three leading the strange horses stopped where they were. Fence and Matthew came forward, cautiously. Fence said, in an extremely prosaic voice, â€œTheyâ€™l shape me in your arms, Janet, / A dove, and but a swan: / And last theyâ€™l shape me in your arms / A mother-naked man. 
 	Cast your green mantle over me, / Iâ€™l be myselâ€™
 	again. Wherefore,â€ said Fence, much more vigorously, â€œthy mantle, El en.â€​par 	El en stood up in her stirrups, pul ed off her green woolen cloak, and flung it at Fence, who caught it neatly and in his turn hurled it at the three horses. It bil owed hugely, like a queen-sized bedsheet being snapped open, and settled over al three horses and one of the little girls. There was a tremendous commotion from under the green folds, and a certain amount of heaving and stamping. The man in brown backed hastily off the road, climbed the slope until he came to an evergreen with branches like the rungs of a ladder, climbed that too, and appeared to settle in to watch the fun. 
 	
 	Laura wanted to emulate him, but Patrick was holding the miserable horse firmly where it was, and she would attract attention if she got off. 
 	The heaving mantle slumped suddenly to the road, to the accompaniment of a huge blast of hot air and a pelting of dust. Laura and Patrick both sneezed; El en coughed; the grown-ups just put their hands over their eyes. 
 	When the dust had settled, El enâ€™s half-sized green cloak lay meekly in the middle of the road. The man in brown sat in the tree and laughed. One child crouched in the ditch, gaping. 
 	â€œWow,â€ said Patrick. Laura couldnâ€™t remember ever having heard him say that. Patrick did not like to appear impressed. 
 	â€œWherefore laugh you?â€ shouted Matthew to the man in the tree. 
 	â€œI feared they were monsters,â€ gasped the man; Laura realized that he was not so much amused as hysterical. â€œI thought them poisonous, direful, dangerous; and what were they but a puff of air and a screeching as of cats?â€​par 	â€œWhat were they but concerned elsewhere?â€ said Fence, grimly. He walked forward, picked up El enâ€™s cloak, and shook it briefly. The child in the ditch sneezed. 
 	â€œSo, thouâ€™rt real enough,â€ said Fence. Laura deduced from this that shape-shifters didnâ€™t sneeze, and that El enâ€™s mantle had known which creatures were shape-shifters. 
 	Fence helped her back onto the road. She backed away from him and ran, which Laura thought ungrateful. 
 	
 	â€œWhat about the other kid?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œAn sheâ€™s gone, sheâ€™s one of them,â€ said Fence. He surveyed his party. â€œCelia,â€ he said, â€œI do commend thy stubbornness. I think we must stay the night.â€​par 	In the little town, they were given a square room, about ten feet by ten, with a stone floor and a fireplace, and tapestries on the wal s. The tapestries had largely to do with quarrying rock and building castles. Nobody seeming inclined to trust the food offered by the denizens of the town, they ate their usual rations, except that Celia crumbled up the oatcake in boiling water and made porridge. It was hot, and as far as Laura was concerned, that was al you could say for it. 
 	After this vexing meal, Laura and El en sat on a pile of al their bedclothes, looking dismal y through one of Patrickâ€™s physics books and trying to find something to laugh at. El en rather liked â€œmean acceleration,â€ but Laura was not finding anything very funny. Mean acceleration just sounded like what a horse did when it wanted you to fal off. They had a branch of candles to read by; its light was bright but rather wavery. Patrick had the fire, and was, infuriatingly, reading the only piece of fiction he had brought along. 
 	Matthew and Celia were sitting on two more wooden stools, holding hands, their heads leaning against one of the quarry tapestries and their eyes shut. Fence had spread a battered map the size of a game of Twister out on the floor, and was kneeling in the middle of it, scowling. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Matthew, â€œHeathwil wil furnish us a newer map.â€​par 	â€œThe man of Feren,â€ said Fence, â€œdid say the road ran halfway to the House of Belaparthalion.â€​par 	Laura looked up from an uninspiring picture of two wooden carts with rol er-skate wheels being smashed together to demonstrate the conservation of momentum, straight into the firelit swirls of Fenceâ€™s robe. She saw Claudia and three black cats standing in tree-dappled sunshine on the bank of a stream. The cats were fishing; Claudia appeared to be making sarcastic remarks, which they ignored. She was stil wearing the red checked dress in which she had greeted Ted and Laura on their return to Il inois. It was limp. Claudia looked different. She was stil elegant, as she leaned against a rowan tree and laughed at her cats. She was one of those people of whom Lauraâ€™s mother said that they had elegant bones. But the conscious grace she had displayed even walking in the damp woods gathering herbs was missing. She was somehow more likeable and less alarming than Laura had seen her. She cocked an eye at the wet-footed cats, shook her head, sat down on a convenient rock, and picked a white crocus the size of a tulip. 
 	Laura leaned forward to see better, and found herself staring at a mud-smeared nebula on Fenceâ€™s gown. 
 	She rubbed her eyes. Claudia was where they had been the night before. Why should she be fol owing them on foot, with three cats? 
 	â€œLaura Kimberly Carrol ,â€ said El en, glancing up from the physics book and fixing her with a look as stern as any of Agathaâ€™s, â€œwhat is the matter with you?â€​par 	Laura shrugged. 
 	â€œFence,â€ 
 	said 
 	El en. 
 	â€œSheâ€™s 
 	seen
 	something.â€​par 	
 	â€œSeen what?â€​aid Fence, to Laura. 
 	It was no trouble to tel her visions once she was cornered. 
 	She obliged. This one was not very dramatic, except for Claudiaâ€™s location. Her attempt to describe in what way Claudia seemed likeable was not a success. El en and Patrick stared at her, and Celia made a very sharp remark, for Celia, about people who kil ed children but cherished cats. 
 	â€œYou never should have cal ed that cardinal, El ie,â€
 	said Patrick, laying his pen down. â€œI bet thatâ€™s how she found out where we were.â€​par 	â€œBut how could she get there so fast?â€ said El en. 
 	â€œI think she was fol owing us al along.â€​par 	â€œWith three cats?â€ said Laura. â€œCats that fish?â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Matthew, who stil had not opened his eyes, â€œif travel one must with cats in the wilderness, let them by al means be cats that fish.â€​par 	â€œI wish we knew more about her powers,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œHer greatest deeds meseemeth are performed with the aid of the windows in her house,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œShe hath none now.â€​par 	â€œShe can escape the spel of Shanâ€™s Ring,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œOr,â€ said Patrick, rather smugly, â€œthe spel of Shanâ€™s Ring has a limit to it.â€​par 	â€œShe knows what I taught her, and what Meredith taught her,â€​aid Fence. â€œThat sufficeth to fol ow us, but not to catch us.â€​par 	
 	â€œLetâ€™s go in the morning early, al the same,â€
 	said Matthew. 
 	â€œWherefore,â€​aid Celia, â€œlet us to bed now.â€​par 	â€œCelia,â€ said Laura, with a silent apology to her sore hands, â€œshouldnâ€™t we try to send the message about Belaparthalion?â€​par 	Celia got up, came across the room less briskly than usual, and examined Lauraâ€™s hands. â€œWel ,â€ she said, â€œan it be short, and we have the horse-salve for it after.â€​par 	â€œThat stuff smel s awful,â€ said El en. â€œI have to sleep with her.â€​par 	â€œCanst thou play the flute?â€​par 	â€œYou know I canâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œWel , then,â€​aid Celia. 
 	Laura dug the fluteâ€™s case out of her bedding and took out the mouthpiece. It hurt her hands with a cold throb, not so much on the surface as in the bones. She dropped it onto the physics book. Celia touched it with the tip of her finger, let her breath out softly, and, picking up the mouthpiece in one hand and the next piece in the other, began fitting the flute together. 
 	â€œNo use, Iâ€™l warrant, in warming this?â€​he said. 
 	â€œNo,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Celia, â€œmay there be much music, excel ent voice, in this little organ.â€​par 	She handed it back to Laura. Laura put it to her lips hurriedly. It played â€œGood King Wenceslas.â€ Always before, she had played the flute. She had not always known how she played it, or what, before she started, she would be playing; but it was she who had played. This was the flute. 
 	El en stared at her, and then at Patrick, who had closed his book and was looking exasperated. But Matthew leapt from his resting place with a face ful of consternation, and Fence stood up in the middle of his map, both exclaiming disjointedly. 
 	Laura stopped after one round of the tune, laid the flute down on the physics book again, and shook her hand hard. 
 	â€œMay heaven confound them!â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s a pestilent song,â€ said Matthew; â€œitâ€™s a spel that turneth messages from their ways, delivering them amiss.â€​par 	â€œWho hath set it?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œWorse, who in thâ€™ other party shal know ofâ€™t?â€ said Celia. â€œWil Lady Ruth warn her other, or be silent?â€​par 	â€œI wouldnâ€™t count on anything,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œThe help we get from our others is erratic.â€​par 	â€œCan Andrew play the flute?â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œNot to my knowledge,â€ said Fence, with an astonishing bitterness; â€œbut then, what is that?â€​par 	He flung this last remark at Matthew, but Matthew only pressed his hand over his high forehead and back into his flaming hair, and shook his head, and walking across the room, stooped for the flute and picked it up. 
 	â€œIâ€™l tel you this,â€ he said, hefting the flute with one hand and patting Celiaâ€™s arm with the other. 
 	â€œThis showeth either an unpracticed hand, or a confident. There are spel s little harder that do merely twist a message into some plausible semblance, whereby those receiving it may keep unsuspecting. This spel saith most loud that one desireth our silence.â€​par 	â€œClaudiaâ€™s confident, I imagine,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œAnd in some matters, it may be, unpracticed also,â€
 	said Fence, more calmly. 
 	El en said, â€œDoes this mean Randolph got the earlier message tel ing him to watch out?â€​par 	â€œIt should,â€​aid Fence, frowning. â€œCelia?â€​par 	â€œIt should,â€​aid Celia, not very confidently. 
 	â€œYou people are so vague,â€ said Patrick. â€œWhy is that?â€​par 	â€œBecause magic is an art, not a science, smart-ass,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œAnd none of us is master of this art in special,â€ said Celia. â€œMatthew is a scholar, who knoweth but may not perform; I but dabble; in his own field Fence knoweth much but in this he must be cautious. Content you until we are come to Heathwil Library. Its council may be more sharp than thou desirest.â€​par 	Laura rubbed her stinging hands together. It was infuriating not to be able to send a message. It was enough to make you wish for a telephone. 
 	â€œFrown not so earnest,â€ said Celia; Laura jumped. 
 	â€œCome to bed; we must be up betimes.â€​par 	Laura dreamed about home again. She had lost her third bus ticket in two months, and was afraid to tel her parents. 
 	She had been using her al owance as bus money, but Ted caught her at it. She was having a furious argument with him, in which he promised to help her talk their parents out of cutting her hair if she would confess to the loss of the bus ticket. When she wouldnâ€™t agree to this, Ted threatened to tel Fence. Even in the dream this seemed odd to Laura. 
 	She had a powerful feeling, though, that tel ing Fence would be disastrous. She was trying to explain this to Ted when Celia shook her awake. She got up extremely indignant, with no one to vent her outrage on. 
 	They left when the sun had barely cleared the eastward hil s and the mist from the river hung blurrily in al the val eys. 
 	Laura went on feeling cross. She also felt shy of Fence, as if she were in fact keeping some secret from him because it would hurt her to have him know of it. 
 	â€œIf this is a good road,â€ she said to Patrick, â€œIâ€™d hate to see a bad one.â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s a road,â€ said Patrick. â€œThe point is not that it is done wel , but that it is done at al .â€​par 	Ted had once said something similar about a batch of cookies from which Laura had omitted the salt and baking soda. She bared her teeth at Patrickâ€™s sleek head, so like her brotherâ€™s; and leaned her forehead into the slick nylon of his purple pack, trying to think of something soothing. Somewhere very far away, a voice remarked, Can honorâ€™s voice provoke the silent dust, / Or flattery soothe the dull cold ear of death? 
 	Laura jerked her head up and looked wildly around. The countryside revealed itself in layer after layer of tree-furred hil s, al red and yel ow and orange, as the mist dwindled. 
 	
 	The sky was a murky blue that set off the bril iant trees better than a cleaner color would. Three crows swooped by on the left, lower than the road but high above the bottom of the val ey whose upper rim they rode along. Another voice, closer, said, Where shall we gang and dine the day-O? 
 	â€œFence!â€ said Laura, and the caution of her dream caught her by the throat. She heard herself say, â€œWhenâ€™s lunch?â€​par 	â€œWhen we arrive at Heathwil Library,â€ said Fence. 
 	He was riding next to them, and he frowned a little, as if he knew that was not real y the question she wanted to ask. 
 	â€œAre we that close?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œWeâ€™l be there by sunset.â€​par 	 Not marble,  said the distant voice, in a tone that clutched Lauraâ€™s heart and made her tighten her grip on Patrick, nor the gilded monuments / Of princes shall outlive this powerful rhyme; / But you shall shine more bright in these contents / Than unswept stone besmeared with sluttish time. 
 	â€œHey!â€ said Patrick. â€œLaura, youâ€™re breaking my ribs. Whatâ€™s the problem?â€​par 	â€œIt seems a long way down,â€​aid Laura. 
 	Fence was silent, but Laura could feel his troubled look. 
 	She shut her eyes and tried to think of nothing. Give to airy nothing a local habitation and a name,  said somebody. 
 	Laura held very stil , and the voice said nothing more. 
 	It was a long way down to the val ey; they descended the slope very slowly in a series of switchbacks. The road got better; Laura wondered if, among their other crimes, the people of Feren had neglected the roads around their town. 
 	Then she wondered where this thought had come from. 
 	Princess Laura, perhaps. They descended into the val ey and rode between the rows of towering hil s. The day grew warm, and cool again. There was a great noise of birds, and the sun disappeared behind the hil s on their left. 
 	â€œAre we there yet?â€​aid El en, in a pseudo-whine. 
 	â€œJust fifteen minutes,â€ cal ed Patrick; and they both laughed. 
 	Then El en said in a heartfelt tone, â€œIâ€™m starving.â€​par 	â€œGood grief, if youâ€™re starving, Laura must have died of hunger an hour ago,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	Laura felt that this remark did not deserve the dignity of an answer. She was surprised not to be hungry. Maybe Princess Laura was above such things as food. Dost thou think,  said the distant voice, that because thou art virtuous there shall be no more cakes and ale? 
 	â€œTheyâ€™l feed us wel in Heathwil Castle,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œOh, yeah?â€ said Patrick. â€œWhatâ€™s to keep the shape-changers from taking our dinner the way they took our horses?â€​par 	â€œShape-changers,â€​aid Matthew, from behind them, â€œeat the air, promise-crammâ€™d.â€​par 	The distant voice said, You cannot feed capons so. 
 	â€œThey knew me not at Feren,â€ said Fence, â€œbut at the Library they wil ; their arts are very great.â€​par 	â€œHeh,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	
 	They rode on up the val ey. Eventual y it broadened out before them, and in the blue twilight they saw a tower on a hil . It looked grim, with its thick wal s and dry moat, its stingy arrow-slits and toothy crenel ations. But there was something wrong with the crenel ations. Laura saw as they drew nearer that each one was topped with a large earthenware pot ful of flowers. She supposed one could tip them off onto the heads of enemies. 
 	â€œWhat!â€ said El en. â€œSomebodyâ€™s yel ing poetry.â€​par 	â€œSaying what?â€​aid Matthew. 
 	â€œ â€˜hen wasteful war shal statues overturn,â€™ â€
 	said El en, rather wildly, â€œâ€˜nd broils root out the work of masonry, nor Mars his sword nor warâ€™s quick fire shal burn the living record of your memory.â€™ â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s a building spel ,â€ said Fence. â€œIt is no matterâ€”but I knew not thou hadst the ear for sorcery.â€​par 	He broke off abruptly; remembering, Laura supposed, that Princess El en might not have had such an ear but there was no tel ing what El en Carrol had. Lord,  said her own private voice, we know what we are, but know not what we may be. 
 	Nobody chal enged them from the tower. The road bent eastward; a stream crossed its path, and they clattered over a wide stone bridge. Laura heard water running, louder than the stream, and saw a river on their right. Soon there loomed ahead of them in the growing dusk the glimmer of a very high circular wal . As they rode closer Laura saw that within that wal , on its riverward side, was another higher one, and within that, in the middle of the river itself, a higher stil ; and within that, one last wal , highest of al . Laura thought that the question â€œAre we there yet?â€ might have a variety of answers. 
 	â€œWhich gate?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œThe market, since we come so late,â€​aid Celia. 
 	They rode up to the first wal , and were admitted by a couple of guards who merely looked them over without comment and then stood aside. They rode into the second town Laura had seen here. Everything seemed to be made of stone: little stone huts with thatched roofs, high stone houses with roofs of slate and red tile, stone wal s enclosing gardens and fountains, stone benches, stone statues, stone pil ars standing about with no visible purpose, stone pil ars with stone lanterns on them. People were coming with torches and lighting these as they passed. They rode slowly past one cross-street and five or six houses, and into a wide square. Suddenly the air smel ed of overripe fruit, and spoiled vegetables, and frying, and spices. Laura had a vague impression of striped awnings rol ed up, and shuttered windows. 
 	They rode on through the empty square, past more houses, and took the first right turn that offered itself. And there was the second wal . It belonged to what looked like a miniature castle, with a gatehouse and corner towers. Light shone through al the arrow-slits, and there were no flowers on the crenel ations. A woman in shirt of mail came out to them, holding a torch. She looked surprisedly at Celia. 
 	â€œMy lady, I thought I saw you yesternight,â€​he said. 
 	â€œYou were the more deceived,â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œSaw you me also?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œOh, aye, and al thy crew,â€ the guard said, gesturing at the rest of the party. 
 	
 	â€œDid they swear aright?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œOh, aye.â€​par 	â€œThey might mean harm to us, Fence, and none to Heathwil Library,â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said the woman, â€œcan you swear aright?â€​par 	â€œI do swear by the mercy granted to Shan and the three precepts of Belaparthalion,â€ said Fence, â€œthat neither I nor any of my train come with the wil or the power to do harm to Heathwil Library, its members, or those whom it doth protect.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s more than they could do,â€ she said; â€œI had to speak it to â€™em.â€ She looked again at Celia. â€œYou did say that youâ€™d forgot al civil discourse, being so long in a barbarous land.â€​par 	â€œAn you stop now, I can forgive,â€ said Fence, rather sharply. â€œMay we go our ways?â€​par 	â€œHeartily,â€​he said. 
 	They were chal enged, as they came out the other side of the gatehouse, by two more guards, who accepted their account of themselves amiably enough, but took issue with Fenceâ€™s desire to ride the horses further. There was plenty of room, they said, here in the Refuge Close; and Heathwil Castleâ€™s stables were crowded. 
 	â€œWhoâ€™s here?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œI couldnâ€™t say,â€ said one guard, in a sour tone that Laura thought was directed not at Fence, but at those about whom he couldnâ€™t say. 
 	Fence seemed disposed to argue, but Matthew touched his arm and he was silent. They dismounted, and handed over the horses to the guards, and were given a handcart for their luggage. Somebody came out of the darkness to pul it for them. Laura was too stiff and sleepy to pay much heed. 
 	They had to wait while a great deal of grinding and clattering went on: the drawbridge being let down. They walked across it, over the dark-sliding, fresh-smel ing river, and came to the next wal . This one was so high it disappeared into the darkness. Another gate, four guards, their voices cautious and Fenceâ€™s patient. 
 	â€œI thought as much!â€​xclaimed one of the guards. 
 	â€œBut they did take the oath,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œWel , in that case the quarrelâ€™s yours,â€ said the guard, â€œbut I take it il that we should be so trifled with you. Do you send for us an they confound you.â€​par 	They were al owed into a torchlit, oddly shaped courtyard inside which loomed the highest wal of al , a great blocky building just like an apartment complex, dotted with squares of yel ow light. They went along its length to a far door, and up a narrow stair, and into a large, square room, blessedly warm, with a table, and chairs, and a bewildering clutter of objects on every available flat surface. A fair-haired man in yel ow sat writing at the far side of the table. His moving elbow was going to knock a stack of books into his inkwel any moment, thought Laura, and she woke up a little. 
 	The man who had pul ed their handcart and guided them up the stairs tapped on the frame of the door, and cleared his throat, and final y shouted, â€œMy lord!â€​par 	The man at the desk looked up, and smiled, and stopped smiling to lay down his pen. â€œFence?â€​e said. 
 	â€œThis time for sure,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	
 	â€œSo I believe,â€​aid Fence. 
 	The fair man stood up. â€œWel , we must sift these matters. But for the moment, welcome,â€ he said, â€œto Heathwil Library.â€​par 	As they filed into the room, El en caught Laura by the sleeve. â€œThatâ€™s him!â€ she said. â€œThatâ€™s Michaelmas!â€​par 	The voice, very close now, so close that for a moment Laura thought it belonged to the fair man, spoke pleasantly. 
 	It said, Up, lass: when the journeyâ€™s over / Thereâ€™ll be time enough to sleep.  And then it said, Welcome indeed, to Heathwill Library. 
 	
 CHAPTER 21

 	IT was the fourth day of the journey south. Ted was tired. He had not had enough rest since they started, what with setting up camps, and tearing them down; and Randolphâ€™s being in a hurry without saying why; and the tol taken by perplexing a conversations. It was a good thing the setting sun was shining in his eyes, or he would be asleep where he sat and the perspicacious horse would be plotting its revenge. 
 	Ted sat up with a start, and the perspicacious horse twitched and stretched its neck hopeful y. West. Why were they riding west? The road went south. The domains of the Dragon King were south of the Hidden Landâ€”werenâ€™t they? The army of the Hidden Land had traveled south to fight the Dragon King, but its aim had been to get out of its own territory, not necessarily to get into the Dragon Kingâ€™s. Maybe the Dragon Kingâ€™s domains were west, and he had missed a crossroads, being so sleepy. 
 	â€œRuth?â€​e cal ed. 
 	Ruth, a little ahead of him, looked inquiringly over her shoulder and then slowed her horse until they were riding abreast. She looked tired and pale herself. This morning, when she could have been helping them strike camp, she had wrestled her crazy hair into a knot at the back of her head and crammed somebodyâ€™s straw hat over it. It made her look older and a little sil y. Nor could Ted see the point of the arrangement; the weather was cooler than it had been the day before. He tried to remember how Lady Ruth had looked in the land of the dead. He thought she had worn her hair down, but couldnâ€™t be sure. 
 	â€œWhat do you want?â€ said Ruth, patiently. Wel , at least that wasnâ€™t a reaction of Lady Ruth. 
 	â€œWhy are we riding west?â€​aid Ted. 
 	Ruth smiled faintly. â€œAndrew says itâ€™s misdirection disguised as sorcery.â€​par 	â€œI suppose that means it real y is sorcery.â€​par 	â€œProbably. He says Randolph is doing it, though; I wasnâ€™t sure Randolph was al owed to do sorcery anymore.â€​par 	â€œThis does seem more serious than making the rain stop.â€​par 	Behind them, Stephen and Dittany were involved in some discussion that created a great deal of laughter. Ahead of them, Randolph rode alone, his hood up and his shoulders tired; ahead of him, Andrew and Julian were talking earnestly, while the breeze blew their hair about; and ahead of them, Jerome rode by himself, and rather faster. Ted realized that the character of the plain had changed. The grasses were shorter, and the land went up and down like a sine wave. It was al scattered with clumps of trees and gleams of water. And on the far edge, below the reddening sun, where yesterday the flat land had met the flat sky, there was a tiny, irregular line of purple. 
 	â€œRuth. Mountains.â€​par 	â€œI saw them yesterday,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œThis may be the way to the Gray Lake, but isnâ€™t it taking us the long way around for the Dragon King?â€​par 	â€œThey said the Gray Lake was on the way.â€​par 	
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, dubiously, â€œI guess what sorcery is getting us into, sorcery can get us out of.â€​par 	â€œDo not meddle in the affairs of wizards,â€ said Ruth, sepulchral y. 
 	â€œCut it out. We are the affairs of wizards.â€​par 	â€œWhat a very uncomfortable thought,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œYou ought to be used to it by now.â€​par 	â€œWel , there are affairs and affairs.â€​par 	Oh, thought Ted. â€œAndrew,â€ he said, firmly, â€œis not a wizard.â€​par 	â€œI wish,â€ said Ruth, suddenly sounding furious, â€œthat I could get blasted Lady Ruth to come into the front of my mind. She knows what Andrew is.â€​par 	â€œRandolph and I wanted to ask you about that,â€ said Ted. â€œCome on.â€ He asked the mare to catch up with Randolphâ€™s horse, which pleased her, and then held her to Randolphâ€™s slow pace, which she didnâ€™t like at al . 
 	Ruth rode up between them. â€œSince Iâ€™m to be interrogated,â€​he said. 
 	Randolph shook his hood back, and Ted saw Ruth smile at him. Randolph didnâ€™t smile back. He was getting a tan from al this traveling in the sun, so he no longer looked so white and strained; but he stil had hol ows under his eyes. Oh heavy burden!  cooed the voice in Tedâ€™s mind, unkind and ironic. Oh my offense is rank, it smells to heaven. 
 	â€œShut up!â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Ted and Randolph stared at her, Randolph in simple bewilderment and Ted with uncomfortable surmise. 
 	â€œIâ€™m sorry,â€ said Ruth. â€œThe one who isnâ€™t Lady Ruth is acting up. Smel s to heaven indeed!â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™re hearing my back-of-the-head voice,â€
 	said Ted. 
 	â€œLeave the voices,â€ said Randolph, patiently. 
 	â€œYou did but look upon me and have a like thought. Your blood, your training, yourâ€”â€​e stopped. 
 	â€œExactly,â€ said Ted. â€œWrong blood, no training. 
 	So why?â€​par 	â€œThe whispers of your others confound me,â€ said Randolph. â€œBut those neutral voices that take a chance word in your thoughts and expound on it as sorcerer to his apprenticeâ€”those our proximity to the Gray Lake doth explain.â€​par 	â€œBut why can we hear them, without the blood or the training?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œYou have the ear for sorcery,â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œAnyone can have it, though few untrained could hear those voices at this distance from their abiding.â€​par 	â€œDid Edward and Lady Ruth have it?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œAye, both.â€​par 	â€œYes, thatâ€™s an idea!â€ said Ruth to Ted. 
 	â€œMaybe weâ€™re just hearing what they hear.â€​par 	â€œNot if what you hear correspondeth to your inmost thoughts,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œBut if Edward and Lady Ruth hear our inmost thoughtsâ€”â€​par 	
 	â€œThat,â€ said Ted, ruthlessly interrupting this theoretical discussion, â€œis what we wanted to talk about. 
 	What happened to you last night, when Andrew asked you to play that song?â€​par 	â€œShe sang the tune under her breath, and I recognized it.â€​par 	â€œRuthie, you got such a look on your face. Why did you?â€​par 	â€œBecause Iâ€”â€ Ruth stopped. â€œItâ€™s al muddled,â€ she said. â€œShe knew that Andrew thought she couldnâ€™t play that song; but she could, because itâ€™s necessary for some rituals of the Green Caves. And I could, and I could play it better than she did. So he was trying to embarrass her and it backfired on him; and it backfired doubly because Iâ€™m not Lady Ruth.â€​par 	â€œThat songâ€™s a spel ?â€ said Randolph, seeming to wake up. 
 	â€œIâ€™m not sure. Conrad did go to the Green Caves, so it might just be a piece of history.â€​par 	â€œDo you think she took over your actions?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Ruth. â€œWe both wanted the same thing, to discomfort Andrew.â€​par 	â€œBut would you have wanted to discomfort Andrew if she hadnâ€™t been angry that he was trying to embarrass her?â€​par 	â€œYes! He scares the living daylights out of me.â€​par 	â€œOr out of Lady Ruth?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Ruth. â€œAs far as I can tel , nothing scares Lady Ruth. If she wants to help me keep Andrew at bay, why should I kick?â€​par 	â€œBecause for al we know, she could take you over.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l be careful,â€ said Ruth, patiently. â€œIt would help to know what she was up to with Andrew.â€​par 	â€œWhen we get to the Gray Lake,â€ said Ted, â€œyou can ask her.â€​par 	He thought Randolph had stopped listening some time ago, but now that lord remarked, â€œShe may refuse thee.â€​par 	Edward said, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, which he did thrice refuse: was this ambition? 
 	â€œDid you hear that?â€​aid Ted, sharply. 
 	â€œHear what?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œNay, I heard nothing,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ted looked at him, but he seemed perfectly tranquil. Ted rode on silently, trying to compare the cooing voice they had al heard with the one he thought of as Edwardâ€™s. 
 	Before the sun set, the land had begun to change when Ted looked down at his horse, or closed his eyes for a moment, or put his gloves on. Before the twilight became darkness, the land changed while he looked at it. He would see that the plain he was riding across ended in a steep, forested slope; and the next moment he would be halfway up the slope; and the moment after that, across a brook he hadnâ€™t even seen yet, on the slopeâ€™s far side. And yet he and his horse had crossed the brook; the horseâ€™s legs were dripping. It made Ted feel sick, but it didnâ€™t seem to bother the horse at al . 
 	â€œSome misdirection!â€​e shouted at Ruth. 
 	
 	Ruth shook her head without looking around; and in front of her, Andrew turned and glared at him. Ted grinned back, and hoped Andrew felt sick too. 
 	It was almost dark when they rode to the top of a hil , and saw the road running down its other side to yet another little stream. Across the stream there was no road, only a vast gray shadow on the far bank. Ted looked behind him. The hil showed clear against the darkening sky, and one smal tree was faintly red in the lingering light. So that gray shadow before them was not darkness only. Ted looked around at his companions. Everybody seemed blank, except for Andrew, who had the dour expression of somebody who has been trifled with long enough, and Ruth, who smiled at Randolph and said, â€œWel done.â€​par 	â€œFence had done it swiftlier,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ruth caught Tedâ€™s glance and rol ed her eyes. 
 	Jerome said, â€œWhat now, my lord?â€​par 	â€œI think some of us must make a camp and wait,â€
 	said Randolph. He looked at Ted. â€œWhom wil you have to accompany you, my prince?â€​par 	Oh, wonderful, thought Ted. And after that,  said Edward, out of all whooping.  Ted ignored him and considered the question. â€œHow many know the way to the Gray Lake?â€​par 	â€œI alone,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œYou, then,â€ said Ted to Randolph. â€œAnd Lady Ruth. Do any of the rest of you earnestly desire this journey?â€​par 	Stephen looked hopeful, but Andrew spoke first. â€œAs my next lesson in the sensibility of magic,â€ he said, â€œI dare not omit it.â€​is tone was ironic. 
 	
 	Ted looked at Randolph. Randolph ran both hands through his hair and said with perfect seriousness, â€œHe hath the right of it, my prince. I would not impede such a progress as this.â€​par 	This made no sense to Ted, but he understood that Randolph either wanted Andrew or despaired of keeping him from coming. 
 	â€œOkay,â€ he said. â€œFour to go and four to stay. 
 	Ought we to camp here also, my lord, and ford the stream in daylight?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€​aid Randolph, â€œtime presseth.â€​par 	There was some complicated trading around of baggage; about halfway through it Ted realized that Randolph meant them to leave their horses with the camp. He put on the pack he was given. It was no heavier than his typical load of schoolbooks for a weekend. He watched Ruth settle hers on her shoulders. She bounced it experimental y and said to Randolph, â€œHow far is it to the Gray Lake?â€​par 	â€œWe canâ€™t get there by candlelight,â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œNay,â€ said Ruth, disgustedly, â€œnor back again.â€ Randolph, rummaging through his fourth saddlebag in search of something he couldnâ€™t find, looked up with a startled face. â€œWhence cometh that?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s a nursery rhyme,â€​aid Ruth. â€œButâ€”â€​par 	â€œOnly in so strange a nursery as thine,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	Ruth gave him a freezing look of a sort Ted had seen on her face exactly once, when the boy who drove the ice-cream truck past the farm had implied that her father was crazy. El en had thrown an unpaid-for ice-cream sandwich at him and fol owed it up with a handful of gravel; but Ted thought it was the look on Ruthâ€™s face that made the boy drive his truck away without even swearing at them, let alone running them over. 
 	Andrew was less impressionable than the ice-cream vendor. He smiled, and Ruth looked away. 
 	â€œAh!â€ said Randolph, and pul ed from the fifth saddlebag a dul gray globe about the size of an orange. 
 	â€œNow are we wel victual ed.â€​par 	Ted hoped he was being metaphorical. The gray globe was less than appetizing. Your worm is your only emperor for diet,  said Edward, with a nasty chuckle. We fat all creatures else to fat us, and we fat ourselves for maggots. 
 	Ruth shivered suddenly, and Ted caught her hand and pul ed her away from the others, onto the gravel y edge of the stream. â€œWhatâ€™d Lady Ruth say just now?â€ he said. 
 	â€œIt was the other one. It said, â€˜our worm is your onlyâ€”â€™ â€​par 	â€œ â€˜mperor for diet.â€™ â€​par 	â€œAnd so on. Edward said it too?â€​par 	â€œMaybe it isnâ€™t Edward in the back of my mind after al ?â€​par 	â€œHow would you know?â€ said Ruth. â€œI can only tel mine apart because Lady Ruth has an accent.â€​par 	â€œLucky you,â€​aid Ted, gloomily. 
 	They looked back at the others. Andrew was talking to Jerome; Randolph was addressing the rest of them. It was cold down here by the stream. Ted started to move back toward the others, but then Randolph came down the slope, Andrew behind him. 
 	â€œNow,â€ Randolph said. â€œThis is the Owlswater. 
 	â€™Tis neither deep nor strong, but â€™tis otherwise treacherous. Do we hold to one another.â€ He held out a hand to Ruth, who hesitated, then took it and quickly gave her other hand to Ted. Ted was therefore obliged to offer his hand to Andrew; Andrew didnâ€™t seem to mind. 
 	Everybody was wearing gloves or mittens anyway. Ruth was too picky. 
 	â€œCome on,â€ said Randolph, and stepped into the stream, fol owed by Ruth. 
 	Ted held tightly to Ruthâ€™s hand and went after them. 
 	The water was less than knee-deep and as cold as snow. 
 	The bed of the stream was rocky and uneven, but none of the rocks shifted as he stepped on them. The mist slid around him; he could no longer see Ruth, or even hear her splashing, though her hand stil pul ed him on. The water is wide,  said Edward, if it was Edward. I cannot get oâ€™er. 
 	â€œYouâ€™ve been oâ€™er,â€ muttered Ted. That undiscovered country from whose bourn / No traveller returns,  said Edward, in the tone of one answering an argument. 
 	Ted bumped suddenly into Ruth, who dropped his hand and said, â€œWatch it!â€ The mist cleared ahead of them. 
 	Ted moved to one side quickly, and let go of Andrew as Andrew came out of the water. They stood on a wide beach of round, smooth pebbles, beside a wider stretch of running water whose far side was veiled in gray mist. It was quite dark; the sky on this side of the stream was overcast. How is it,  said Edward, that the clouds still hang on thee? 
 	
 	â€œRuth?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œTime, like an ever-rol ing stream, / Bears al its sons away,â€​he said. 
 	â€œNo. How is it that the clouds stil hang on thee?â€​par 	â€œOh, no, my lord,â€ said Ruth, her voice al lit up with mischief, â€œI am too much iâ€™thâ€™sun.â€​par 	â€œDonâ€™t you start!â€​par 	â€œOrder, if you please,â€ said Randolph, mildly. 
 	â€œWe must walk yet awhile tonight.â€​par 	They walked beside the stream, sliding a little on the round stones. The stream grew wider and noisier, and wound about so much that Ted wondered why they bothered to fol ow it. Maybe there was no straighter way. On their right a profound darkness topped with pale points stood up against the dim sky: mountains. One wouldnâ€™t want to climb among those in the dark. 
 	Ted was lagging behind. His legs ached. He made an effort to catch up, and saw Ruth stumble. Andrew caught her. Ted came panting up in time to see her thank him politely, and remove her arm from his grasp after a decent interval. 
 	â€œRandolph, we seem to be getting tired,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œI am not,â€ said Ruth, a little raggedly. â€œI just canâ€™t see.â€​par 	â€œThat can we remedy,â€ said Randolph. He pul ed something out of the front of his cloak, held it up in both hands, and said thoughtful y, â€œThe morn in russet mantle clad walks oâ€™er the dew of yon high eastward hil .â€​par 	A dim red light fil ed his hands, and warmed and lightened and spread until he held a glowing golden globe the size of a grapefruit. Ted recognized the color, and repressed sternly a desire to ask Andrew what misdirection he thought had produced such an effect. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s better,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œDo you carryâ€™t, then, and lead the way,â€ said Randolph. 
 	Ruth took it promptly in her mittened hands. â€œIt isnâ€™t warm,â€​he said. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s a second spel ,â€ said Randolph, reaching for the globe. 
 	â€œNo, donâ€™t bother,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Edward said, The air bites shrewdly; it is very cold. 
 	â€œMaybe where you are,â€​aid Ted, under his breath. 
 	They fol owed Ruth along the stony shore. It was a very quiet night; or maybe, thought Ted, everything in that circle of golden light had fal en silent. The little globe lit up the landscape for an amazing distance al around. Ted could see on his right where the tumbled rock gave way to grassy slopes, and on his left how the river widened and widened, while the mist slowly dispersed from its far shore, which was revealed as a narrow, stony beach overhung by crumbling dirt banks with the grass hanging over them like uncut hair. 
 	They went on. The dark, irregular shape of a clump of trees loomed up against the left-hand banks. Randolph, who had been walking next to Ruth, turned around and held up his hands to the rest of them. 
 	â€œWe must cross the water again,â€​e said. â€œHere â€™tis no sorcerous boundary, but a shal ow water merely.â€​par 	
 	He turned around and splashed into the river. They fol owed him. This water was not so cold, and under it was firm sand. Ted trudged along next to Ruth. The dazzling globe turned the rippled water and the air itself to gold, and shone in her hair and eyes like the shining from shook foil. 
 	Edward said, Ask me no more where Jove bestows, /
 	 When June is past, the fading rose; / For in thy beautyâ€™s orient deep / These flowers, as in their causes, sleep. 
 	Ted went on walking through the water, and even scrambled up the opposite shore without mishap; but he did it al staring at Ruth. At the way her hair sprang from a peak in the middle of her high forehead, and wound in hundreds of curling tendrils around her pale face; at her thick black eyebrows arched like the ears of a cat over her huge, black-bristled green eyes; at the severity of her nose and the delicacy of her mouth; at the scar on the back of her thin hand where he had dropped a candle on it, unintentional y, when she tickled him. 
 	â€œ Ruth,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWhat?â€​par 	â€œEdwardâ€™s in love with you.â€​par 	â€œShhh,â€ said Ruth. â€œLord Randolph, of your courtesy, would you carry this globe awhile? My wrists ache.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l take it,â€​aid Andrew, doing so. 
 	â€œThanks,â€ said Ruth, and fel back with Ted to the end of the procession. They were in among the trees now, on a broad, smooth path. Ruth said, â€œNow whatâ€™s al this?â€​par 	
 	â€œEdwardâ€™s in love with Lady Ruth.â€​par 	â€œPoor fool,â€​aid Ruth, bitterly. 
 	â€œWhereâ€™d you get that scar on the back of your hand?â€​par 	â€œBumped up against a baby-sitterâ€™s cigarette,â€
 	said Ruth. â€œThat was the last we saw of him. Patrick was furious; the guy was reading him GÃ¶del, Escher, Bach.  Not that Patrick was old enough to underâ€”â€ She seemed to shake herself, and said, â€œWhy do you ask?â€​par 	â€œLady Ruthâ€™s got one too. Edward spil ed candle-wax on it. Edward,â€ added Ted, on reflection, â€œis getting to be a nuisance.â€​par 	â€œHeâ€™s got to be better than Lady Ruth.â€​par 	Edward said, Comparisons are odious, and Ted shut his mouth on what he had thought of saying. 
 	They walked in the woods a long time. Final y they found a huddle of rocks, wrapped themselves up in their bedding, and slept without setting a watch or even consulting about it. 
 	Ted hoped that if anything came to kil him it wouldnâ€™t wake him up first. 
 	
 CHAPTER 22

 	TED dreamt that he was at a school concert with his parents; Laura was playing the flute of Cedric. She was playing â€œGood King Wenceslas,â€ with more flourishes than Ted had thought it possible to wring out of a flute; but the music teacher, who was sitting next to his mother, was extremely angry because Laura had been supposed to play â€œWhat if a Day,â€ whatever that was. The music teacher was explaining al this to Tedâ€™s mother in an angry whisper; Tedâ€™s mother kept trying to shut the music teacher up so she could hear Laura. Then the sixth-grade choir filed onto the stage. Ted suddenly realized that Laura was wearing one of her Secret Country dresses; and he was jolted out of his pleasant dream-state, wherein everything was as it had been before their cousins moved to Australia. 
 	Then the sixth-grade choir sang not â€œGood King Wenceslas,â€ but something that jarred uncomfortably with it. Ted caught snatches of the words. â€œCannot a chance of a night or an hour cross thy desires?â€ Lauraâ€™s playing faltered, and then steadied. The choir sang, â€œAl our joys are but toys, Idle thoughts deceiving.â€ Laura stopped playing and stood looking thoughtful. â€œNone have power of an hour in their livesâ€™ bereaving,â€ sang the sixth-graders. 
 	Laura grinned and lifted the flute again. She played a song Ted had never heard; but the words to it rose out of the back of his mind, and covered the sounds of his mother arguing with the music teacher and of the choir stil singing. 
 	 And from the Dragonâ€™s mouth that would / You all in And from the Dragonâ€™s mouth that would / You all in sunder shiver / And from the horns of Unicorns / Lord safely you deliver. 
 	Edwardâ€™s voice rose triumphantly, with the piercing sound of the flute. Light flashed off the silver thing, and hurt Tedâ€™s eyes. He blinked, and opened them again on a dazzling shaft of sunlight. One little ray had found its way into their clutter of rocks, and it had to hit him in the eye. Around him the blanketed forms of his traveling companions breathed gently. Ruth had her head on his knees. Her face was dirty, and her hair was wilting into a semblance of what other peopleâ€™s hair looked like. Ted remembered vividly the time Ruth had decided that not washing it for a month would make it straight and flat, and the reaction of his aunt Kim to this proposal. 
 	He was afraid that if he looked at Ruth any longer, Edward would wake up and behave badly. He raised his eyes and considered the rest of them. Andrew lay beyond Ruth, on his stomach, with his face in his folded arms, lank brown hair leaking out from under the blanket pul ed over his head. 
 	Randolph was sitting up against a rock near the opening of this rocky hol ow, his arms around his knees and his head tipped over at an uncomfortable angle, as if he had not intended to sleep at al . His face was scratched and his hair looked like Ruthâ€™s. 
 	Ted poked Ruth in the shoulder. She twitched once, opened her eyes, and made a horrible face at him. â€œOh, God!â€ she said. â€œ This is what I hate about traveling in the Hidden Land. Waking up like this and knowing I canâ€™t have a hot shower.â€​par 	â€œWhat did you dream about last night?â€​aid Ted. 
 	He kept his voice low, and Ruthâ€™s when she answered was lower also. â€œHot water,â€ she said. â€œAre your legs asleep, or can I lie here and enter gradual y into the true horrors of my state?â€​par 	â€œDid you dream about anything else?â€​par 	â€œYou ought to have helped out in the Spanish Inquisition,â€ grumbled Ruth. She shut her eyes. â€œLet me think. Yes,â€ she said, and opening them again, she gave him an upside-down frown. â€œI dreamed of home. 
 	Not Australia, but the first farm. Thatâ€™s odd. I havenâ€™t dreamed of home since weâ€™ve been here.â€​par 	â€œWhat happened?â€​par 	â€œI was playing the flute,â€​aid Ruth, slowly. 
 	Tedâ€™s heart jerked within him. â€œWel ?â€​par 	â€œIt was Christmas Eve,â€ said Ruth. â€œYou guys were there. It was nice. Except we were arguing over the music. Mom wanted â€˜ood King Wenceslas,â€™ but El en and Laura insisted on this weird prayer. I didnâ€™t know the music, but they insisted anyway. Then Laura actual y took the flute away from me; and I saw it was the flute of Cedric and got very upset; but I didnâ€™t think yet that this might be just a dream. Laura started playing a song I didnâ€™t recognize, and Patrick started singing, and El ie; and then I saw that Celia and Matthew and Fence were al there too, and they sang. And then you poked me.â€​par 	â€œWhat was the prayer?â€​par 	â€œâ€˜nd from the sword (Lord) save your heart, / By my might and power, / And keep your heart, your darling dear, / From Dogs that would devour. / And from the Dragonâ€™s mouth that wouldâ€”â€™â€​par 	â€œâ€˜ou al in sunder shiver,â€™â€ said Ted, â€œâ€˜nd from the horns of Unicorns / Lord safely you deliver.â€™â€​par 	â€œYou too?â€​par 	â€œDifferent setting,â€​aid Ted. â€œSame song.â€​par 	â€œYour mumbling,â€ said Andrew, sitting up and flinging off his hood, â€œwaketh not the dead, but waketh me most rudely.â€​par 	â€œSorry,â€ said Ted. â€œShouldnâ€™t we be going, to wake the dead in earnest?â€​par 	â€œGive you good morrow,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s good about it?â€ said Randolph, without moving. 
 	â€œMy sentiments exactly,â€ said Ruth. She sat up. 
 	â€œHow far to the Gray Lake?â€​par 	â€œA short walk only,â€ said Randolph. He opened his eyes. â€œThere is a house there wherein we may find refreshment.â€​par 	â€œLetâ€™s go and find it, then,â€ said Ruth, standing up. 
 	Randolph and Andrew got up stiffly and went outside. Ruth shook out her skirts and held a hand down to Ted. â€œYour legs are asleep.â€​par 	â€œNot as much as my brain,â€ said Ted. â€œThose dreams must mean something. I just canâ€™t think what.â€​par 	â€œNeither can I,â€ said Ruth. â€œMaybe the refreshment wil revive our failing wits.â€​par 	They came out blinking into the glittering sunshine. The trees around them were mostly oaks, and clutched stil their dry brown leaves. The wind hissed in them. Their trunks were greened over with moss. A little ahead the wood grew up against tal gray rocks spotted with moss and lichen, the lichen delicate as lace, the moss as green as beryls. There was a cleft in those rocks. 
 	The floor of the forest was crisp oak leaves, with damp ones underneath. The path Randolph found and led them along was rocky and rather narrow. Randolph stopped at the cleft in the rocks, and everybody crowded behind him and looked through it. It was wide enough for three or four people to walk abreast. A bar of sunlight sharp and vivid as a piece of yel ow silk fel halfway along the stone floor from the opening at the other end. 
 	Randolph, without saying anything, walked quickly through the cleft and out the other side, and they fol owed him, Ruth and Ted together and Andrew behind them. They came onto a little lawn of short grass and goldenrod. Beyond this, the slope dropped very swiftly, and through ribbons of mist Ted saw a winding water laid out like a sleeping snake, striped with water-weed and bordered by purple loosestrife and whole clouds of goldenrod. 
 	There was a house on the other side of the water. Tile for red roof tile, window for leaded window, graceful front and awkward wing and gray stone and white and faint yel ow, it was a copy of the house at One Trumpet Street, Claudiaâ€™s house, that Ted and Laura had done their best to burn to the ground. 
 	â€œ Thatâ€™s where we may have refreshment?â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œHow not?â€ said Randolph, without turning. 
 	â€œThou didst haveâ€™t in thâ€™other house.â€​par 	
 	â€œYes, but if Claudia wasnâ€™t in that one, wonâ€™t she be here? I donâ€™t want to be entertained by Claudia, thank you very much.â€​par 	â€œâ€™Tis not her house,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	He started down the hil ; and again, they fol owed him. Ted cast a quick look at Andrew. Claudiaâ€™s brother looked as he had looked in her other house: as if he felt creepy. It didnâ€™t make him walk any slower, thought Ted. Al these people appeared to be of the type that takes the earliest dentistâ€™s appointment that offers itself, just to get it over with. 
 	They reached the shore of the lake, and turned right to walk around its near end. The flowering plants were pleasant to look at, and the little slosh of the waves on the shore was pleasant also; but Ted did not like the look of the lake. It was flat and shining, but it was not clear. The morning sun laid no glittering path across it. It looked like a Midwestern sky before a very bad thunderstorm. 
 	They walked up a narrow dirt path to the house. It had no lawn; goldenrod grew up to its foundations and covered half the steps to the porch. These had once been painted blue, but were weathered gray with only thin streaks of color remaining. The windows of the house were filmed with dirt, and drifts of leaves and dead grass lay in the corners of the porch. 
 	Edward said mel ifluously, Egyptâ€™s might is tumbled down / Down a down the deeps of thought.  Oh, go to sleep, canâ€™t you, thought Ted; and a whole concourse of voices rose up and answered him. Macbeth shall sleep no more; /
 	 To die: to sleep; / No more; and, by a sleep to say we end /
 	 The heartache and the thousand natural shocks / That flesh is heir to. We have come, last and best, to that still center where the spinning world sleeps on its axis, to the heart of rest. Lay on thy whips, O love, that me upright, poised on the perilous point, in no lax bed May sleep. Knit up the ravelled sleeve of care, and scatter thy silver dew on every flower that shuts its sweet eyes in timely sleep. 
 	 Life death does end and each day dies with sleep. 
 	â€œRandolph!â€​houted Ted over the din. 
 	â€œThough you bind it with the blowing wind,â€ said Ruth, â€œand buckle it with the moon, the night wil slip away like sorrow or a tune.â€​par 	â€œThat is most certain,â€ said Randolph, turning from a gloomy perusal of the house. 
 	He took Ted and Ruth each by a shoulder, and said, â€œNow heed me. A little firmness shal set them packing. 
 	But fix your eyes on some common object and consider not its name, nor any word. Thereafter, but guard your thoughts and speak not to them, and you shal do very wel .â€​par 	Ted obediently looked at the black woolen hem of Ruthâ€™s cloak, snagged in five places and spotted with mud. The voices quieted and vanished. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s better,â€ he said, and no chorus commented. 
 	â€œYes, it is,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œGood; you have the knack of it,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œWhat is this yammering?â€ demanded Andrew. He had gone up the porch steps already, and nobody had paid much attention to him. He was quite pale, and his forehead was damp. â€œWhy is the air ful of voices?â€​par 	
 	â€œ Oh,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Ted looked at her quickly, but she was frowning at the ground, so he turned back to Andrew. â€œWhat foul trick is this?â€​ried Andrew. 
 	â€œPeace, break thee off,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œLook, where it comes again!â€ said Andrew, wildly. 
 	â€œIn the same figure like the king thatâ€™s dead!â€ He checked as if somebody had hit him, and then ran down the peeling steps and seized Randolph by the shoulders. 
 	â€œRead me this riddle,â€ he said between his teeth, and shook Randolph. 
 	â€œA little firmness,â€ said Randolph, rather jerkily, but with no evident surprise or anger, â€œsets them packing. 
 	Do you smooth out your mind, my lord, but while one with moderate haste might tel a dozen, and theyâ€™l quit you.â€​par 	â€œSmooth out my mind,â€ said Andrew, as if Randolph had suggested something both impossible and repel ent. 
 	â€œDrink up eisel; eat a crocodile.â€ He stopped shaking Randolph, but Ted saw his fingers close hard on the stained wool of Randolphâ€™s cloak and on the flesh under it. 
 	â€œWhat foul place is this, that but requires we do divide ourselves from our fair judgment, without the which we are pictures or mere beasts?â€​par 	â€œFor the merest jot of time,â€ said Randolph. If Andrew was hurting him, he showed no sign of it. He put a hand over one of Andrewâ€™s and said mildly, â€œWhat fear you? Are you so splenitive and rash that in so short a time reason shal flee you? How do you sleep? Think, man; youâ€™re muddy-mettled with this yammering.â€​par 	
 	â€œAnswer me again,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œI cannot,â€ said Randolph, stil mildly. He wrenched himself out of Andrewâ€™s grasp and took the porch steps two at a time. He strode hol owly across the porch, grasped the knocker of the door, and slammed it down with a violence Ted suspected he wanted to use on Andrew. The sound echoed inside the house. 
 	Randolph turned and said, â€œAndrew, thereâ€™s no answer that can please you. Shal I say, these are the grazing-grounds of the unicorns, whose meat is words and their drink music?â€​par 	â€œPah!â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œAndrew,â€ said Ruth, to Tedâ€™s surprise, â€œif you wonâ€™t think of nothing, try thinking of something nobody would ever write poetry about.â€​par 	â€œGo to,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œThen wil you let me try a superstition?â€​par 	Andrew shrugged. Ted saw that he was hardly listening to her; even that â€œgo toâ€ might have been spoken to the clamoring voices. 
 	â€œCome up on the porch, then,â€ said Ruth. â€œI want to get everybody. Ted, you might have to help.â€​par 	Ted fol owed her up onto the porch. It creaked alarmingly under al their weight. The door was gray and weathered, its carvings threaded with fine cracks. The knocker must original y have been brass; it was now green. This one was not the dead rat; it was a long, whiskery dragon holding in its formidable teeth the drooping and very dead-looking body of a unicorn. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s disgusting,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	
 	It made Ted very uneasy, but it also made him want to grin. He said, â€œIf it is the unicorns yammering, I can see how somebody might get tired of them. And think of al their nasty jokes.â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s stil disgusting.â€​par 	â€œNone answereth,â€ said Randolph, and put his hand on the door. 
 	â€œNo, wait,â€ said Ruth. â€œPlease, may I employ a superstition first? My mind mislikes me.â€​par 	â€œSuperstition 
 	mislikes 
 	me,â€ 
 	said 
 	Randolph, 
 	frowning. 
 	â€œI dreamt a prayer last night,â€ said Ruth, â€œand I want to say it, thatâ€™s al .â€​par 	â€œWhat manner of prayer?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ruth grinned at Ted and said, â€œâ€˜nd from the sword (Lord) save your heart, / By my might and power, / And keep your heart, your darling dear, / From Dogs that would devour.â€™â€​par 	Ted said, â€œâ€˜nd from the Dragonâ€™s mouth that would / You al in sunder shiver, / And from the horns of Unicorns / Lord safely you deliver.â€™â€​par 	â€œThou didst dream this?â€ said Randolph. Ted could not tel what he thought of it. 
 	â€œI dreamed it too,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™re quiet,â€ said Andrew. His face cleared and settled into his usual calm. He bowed to Ruth and said, with no sarcasm that Ted could detect, â€œLady, I do thank you.â€​par 	
 	â€œThink nothing of it,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Randolph looked from her to Ted to Andrew, with the face of somebody who is trying to remember a poem and has it al except for the first line. Ted felt the same way, but dared not indulge the wish to compare speculations with Randolph; not when Andrew was listening. He made a helpless face at Randolph. 
 	Randolph scowled at him. Then he shrugged, and said, â€œLet us go in.â€​par 	Ted put both hands on the dry, rough wood of the doors, and pushed. They swung open, grating, and a cold gust of dusty air swept out onto the porch and clouded the clear smel of the morning. Randolph walked into the front hal with Ted on his heels. Before them on the left was a narrow flight of steps from which the faded remnants of red carpet hung dismal y, and on the right a long hal whose wal s were studded with picture hooks. There was no rug on the floor, only the thick gray dust. 
 	â€œSome have been here,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ted looked more closely at the dust, and saw a line of footprints that looked as if they had come from bal et slippers, several lines of prints from cats or other smal animals, and a number of odd impressions that looked more like craters on the moon than anything else. These al led down the long hal . 
 	Ted looked at Randolph, and they went down the hal also, with the other two behind them. It led to a sun porch running the whole width of the house at the back, whose three outside wal s were al windows. From the windows of the right-hand wal they could see the fields of goldenrod staggering uphil to meet the bril iant sky. But the windows of the left-hand wal looked out on a view from High Castle: the glassy lake, the slopes of forest, the insubstantial mountains. And every little diamond-shaped pane in the back wal held a different picture. 
 	Ted took hold of Randolphâ€™s wrist before he realized what he was doing. â€œHere,â€ he said. â€œHereâ€™s where she does it.â€​par 	Randolph wore a very Patrick-like expression, alert and interested. He moved closer to the back wal , towing Ted with him. He laid his other hand over Tedâ€™s clutching one and said, without looking at him, â€œHow may we govern what we see?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€ said Ted. â€œIf you try to concentrate on a particular piece of a scene thatâ€™s there, youâ€™l be able to see it as if you were quite close to it. But I donâ€™t know how you determine what scene is there in the first place.â€​par 	They al peered at the wal ; then Randolph put his hand on a pane right before Tedâ€™s nose. Ted moved back a little and then, reluctantly, looked at the view it offered. He saw the topmost room of Apsinthionâ€™s house, the one ful of mirrors. A black night sky with three stars in it pressed against the skylight. The room was lit with the peculiar harsh glare of fluorescents. The man himself stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by bubbling pools of purple. He was laughing. They sounded angry, like tomato sauce that is boiling too fast. Ted recognized them. They were the water-beasts you could find around High Castle. 
 	The voice of the man in red came faintly out of the window. 
 	â€œIâ€™m fire,â€ he said to the sputtering creatures, â€œand you are but the semblance of water melded with the actuality of earth. Wherefore shal you damage me? 
 	Who hath served you so discourteously as to send you to this comfortless house wherein no wish of yours may be gratified save that to be instantly gone again? May I make amends, I shal do so.â€ The water-beasts began a prolonged and confused sploshing and smacking; they sounded like a mudbal fight on a very wet day. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s him, Randolph!â€ said Ted. â€œThe man who sent us back.â€​par 	â€œThat,â€ said Randolph, â€œis no shape that I know.â€​par 	Ruth said behind them, â€œCan he hear us?â€​par 	Randolph said promptly, â€œMy lord Apsinthion!â€​par 	The man in the window did not look up. 
 	â€œWho might say he was fire?â€​sked Ruth. 
 	â€œAny one might say so,â€ said Randolph. His jaw dropped slightly; his hand fel away from Tedâ€™s, and he turned and leaned heedlessly on the glass wal and looked at Ted and Ruth, and over their heads at Andrew lingering in the doorway. â€œAny one might say so,â€ said Randolph, with a startling exuberance, â€œbut one only so saith truthful y.â€​par 	Ted felt bewildered, and Ruth looked it. 
 	Andrew 
 	said 
 	resignedly 
 	from 
 	the 
 	doorway, 
 	â€œBelaparthalion,â€ in about the way an eight-year-old who has just discovered where his parents are hiding the Christmas presents might say, to a younger sibling, â€œSanta Claus.â€​par 	Randolph turned around and addressed the wal again. 
 	
 	â€œBelaparthalion,â€​e said. 
 	The man in red swung a mirror paral el with the floor, apparently to show the water-beasts themselves in it, and took no notice. 
 	â€œIf Claudia put him in there,â€ said Ted, â€œprobably only Claudia can get him out.â€​par 	â€œHe doesnâ€™t look very upset,â€​bserved Ruth. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s for the dragon-shape,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ted backed up until he was standing next to Ruth, and looked the whole wal over. It seemed to have some method in its arrangement. The scenes from the front doorâ€™s carvings, from the tapestries in High Castle, were al there, two in each corner and the last one in the middle of the wal . 
 	Te d concentrated on that. Al the animals fled from the center of the little diamond pane, where there was a ragged hole like a nail-tear in a shirt. Ted went quickly forward, but the pane was above his line of sight. â€œRandolph,â€ he said, â€œof your courtesy, look on this pane here and consider careful y the hole in the middle.â€​par 	Randolph looked away from some window in the lower right corner, blinking a little. â€œGladly, an thou wilt look on this one,â€​e said. 
 	Ted changed places with him, but watched him rather than the window. Randolph leaned his forehead against the glass and then jerked back. â€œItâ€™s warm,â€​e said. 
 	â€œI know,â€​aid Ted. â€œWhat do you see?â€​par 	â€œProfound darkness,â€ said Randolph. â€œAnd a golden glow in its midst, like unto an apple of Feren in its color, but unto the sun drawn by an artist in its shape.â€​par 	
 	â€œAnd in the midst of the golden glow?â€​par 	â€œA sword that shineth blue, and in its hilt three blue stones.â€​par 	â€œLike Shanâ€™s sword. Is there anything in the sword?â€​par 	Randolph was stil for a long time. Ted looked at the pane Randolph had assigned him. It showed a moonlit clearing in an evergreen forest. Somebody stooped and lit a fire; the red light washed up cheerily and Ted saw that it was Claudia. She sat down on a stump, and three black cats climbed into her lap, complaining. She laughed and said to them in the throaty voice Ted remembered, â€œThere shal be fish tomorrow.â€​par 	Ted looked at the wedge of the black sky visible in the upper part of the pane, and stared at it until it widened and fil ed the whole diamond. It was ful of stars. 
 	â€œNaught within the sword,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œSee if you can identify these constel ations,â€ said Ted. 
 	Randolph knelt beside him and stared obediently. 
 	â€œThose are northern stars,â€ he said. â€œAs you might see at the furthest tip of Fenceâ€™s Country, in the realm of Belaparthalion.â€​par 	â€œSo Claudia and her cats are right where the rest of them are going?â€​par 	â€œOr have been; or wil be. Saidst thou not that, in that other house, were scenes both past and present and to come?â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™d better warn them just in case,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	
 	â€œWhat we needâ€™s a ladder, or a stool,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œSomebody ought to peruse every one of these panes.â€​par 	â€œDo you begin on the lowermost,â€ said Randolph, â€œand one shal relieve you.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l bring you some tea,â€ said Ruth, â€œif thereâ€™s any to be had.â€​par 	Ted thanked her. The rest of them trooped out, and he settled down to his task. It was worse than looking something up in The Oxford English Dictionary. There were distractions everywhere. Any pane on which he fixed his attention would stir to life and begin its slow progression; but most of them held nothing that he recognized. Many showed only empty landscapes. He went back to the pane that held Claudia and her campfire, but she just sat there petting her cats while the fire died. She might do something in five hours, or five minutes, but how could you tel ? Ted went on watching her anyway. The voice he thought of as Edwardâ€™s, and which was beginning to distinguish itself from those other voices, said, For Godâ€™s sake, let us sit upon the ground / And tell sad stories of the death of kings. 
 	â€œThat,â€ said Ted, â€œis what got us into this mess.â€​par 	 Nor are we out of it. 
 	â€œIs that real y you?â€ said Ted. â€œEdward Fairchild, heir to the throne of the Hidden Land?â€​par 	 To err is human,  said Edward dimly; and Ted felt his shadowy presence dim also and go out. He shook his head and went back to staring at the windows. 
 	
 CHAPTER 23

 	MICHAELMASâ€™S room had a large table that he was using as a desk, an even larger round table with chairs set about it, several extraneous chairs, a wardrobe, and a col ection of chests and cabinets. On the chairs were papers, books, very smal sundials and astrolabes, crumby plates, mold-scummed teacups, and sleeping cats. These last didnâ€™t want to be sat on, but were amenable to being scooped up and put on oneâ€™s lap. Laura and Matthew and Patrick each got a cat, gray, orange, and orange-striped, respectively. Celia might have had a large and scruffy black one, but she looked at it and sat on the table instead. 
 	The man in the yel ow robe, who El en said was Michaelmas, had picked up his pen again while they shuffled through his belongings to find the chairs, and wrote placidly until they were al seated. Laura noticed that none of the grown-ups tried to recal his attention, and that he looked up and spoke just as Patrick evidenced an intention of saying something. 
 	The man in yel ow said, â€œWherefore do you grace us with your presence?â€ He did not say this ironical y, nor as if he meant it, but, Laura thought, like the â€œMay I help you?â€ salespeople use. He looked from Celia to Fence and back again, as if the rest of them didnâ€™t matter. 
 	â€œWe seek the answers to three riddles,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œThe other party,â€ said Michaelmas, hunting among the piled scrol s on his desk and knocking a mug to the floor, â€œseeketh knowledge of Shanâ€™s Ring, and of the swords of Shan and Melanie.â€​par 	Patrick, who had been slumped as far down in his chair as he could get without fal ing out of it, sat up abruptly. Laura and El en looked at each other. Fence had Shanâ€™s Ring; Ruth had left it for him when they made their unsuccessful attempt to leave this place behind them. Celia had the swords of Shan and Melanie in her baggage; but Fence had plans for them. They also happened to be the only sure way the five children had to get home again. 
 	There was a less-than-friendly silence. Fence stood up. 
 	â€œDid they bring these objects for your examination?â€
 	he said. 
 	Michaelmas gave him his ful attention. â€œNo,â€ he said. 
 	Fence said, â€œGive me some light.â€​par 	Michaelmas, seeming not in the least put out at being spoken to so peremptorily, gazed the room for a moment and said, â€œLight breaks where no sun shines.â€​par 	Warm golden light sprang out at them from ceiling, from floor, from every corner. It was not dazzling, but it did startle. 
 	Laura saw, when she had recovered, that there was a large number of things rather like grapefruit, strung or just lying around the room. They al glowed. Disordered though the room might be, there were no cobwebs in it and no dust. 
 	â€œThanks,â€ said Fence, and fished in his pouch. He walked up to the man in yel owâ€™s table and laid two objects on it. â€œThis is my ring of sorcery,â€ he said, â€œand this is the Ring of Shan. Had the other party any such tokens?â€​par 	â€œThey are not required,â€ said Michaelmas. But he looked intently at the two rings, one of shining silver with a luminous blue stone in it; the other, clouded brass with a black rock of the sort anybody might pick up out of a flowerbed. Then he held out his hand. â€œMay I look at them?â€​par 	Fence scooped them up and dropped them into his palm. 
 	There was less inimical silence while Michaelmas looked them over, held them up to the light, and final y took a lens out of the drawer of his table and examined them through that. The silence was broken by impatient-sounding footsteps in the hal , heralding the appearance of a middle-sized woman in a blue robe, with a bunch of keys at her wrist and a wool cap on her head. 
 	â€œMichaelmas!â€ she said. She had a vigorous voice, a sharp face, and brown hair in braids. â€œYouâ€™ve lit up every mage-light in the library. Use the morn in russet mantle clad; it doesnâ€™t reach so far.â€ Then she looked around the room and seemed about to make some apology; and then she said, â€œCelia!â€​par 	â€œChalcedony,â€ said Celia, with quieter but very real pleasure; and she got off the table and hugged the woman. 
 	â€œWhat strange names they have here,â€ said El en to Laura. 
 	â€œMadam,â€ said Fence, â€œsawst thou the party that did arrive yesternight?â€​par 	â€œYou are that party,â€ said Chalcedony, perplexed. 
 	She let go of Celia and considered the rest of them. â€œAl except Celia. What makest thou from High Castle one day late?â€​par 	â€œMichaelmas,â€ said Fence; the man in yel ow looked up. â€œWho made up the other party?â€​par 	
 	â€œAl save thou,â€​aid Michaelmas. 
 	He and Chalcedony stared at each other. 
 	â€œThere!â€ said Fence. â€œThatâ€™s better than tokens.â€​par 	There was a meditative silence. Celia and Chalcedony moved into a far corner and began talking in low voices. 
 	Fence and Matthew shook their heads at each other. 
 	Michaelmas began rummaging again in the mess on his desk. 
 	â€œYou know,â€ said Patrick, cheerily, and Laura jumped. â€œItâ€™s al very wel sitting here making deductions; but why donâ€™t we just find these characters and ask them what the hel they think theyâ€™re doing?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™d sooner go without seeing them,â€ said Fence, not to Patrick but to Matthew. Matthew nodded. 
 	Fence said to Michaelmas, â€œWhere have you quartered them?â€​par 	â€œAtop the westernmost block,â€​aid Michaelmas, stil rummaging. 
 	â€œYouâ€™ve got to be kidding,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œCan we resolve our riddles and be gone by morning, we shal do so,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œYou never did say if you thought the Dragon King sent them.â€​par 	â€œI trust he hath,â€ said Fence. â€œIf they answer to him, at least they do answer.â€​par 	â€œFence, whereâ€™s your spirit of adventure?â€ said El en, entering the fray with such suddenness that Laura jumped again. 
 	
 	Michaelmas looked up from his search and said to Fence, â€œSpeak your riddles.â€​par 	Fence said, â€œWhat beast is it the unicorns pursue each summer? Before what beast doth winter flee? What beast maketh that which putteth the words to the fluteâ€™s song?â€​par 	Michaelmas sat back in his high, cushioned chair and whistled. â€œAnd you think to be gone by morning,â€ he said. 
 	â€œYou know them not?â€​par 	â€œI know one only, the second.â€​par 	â€œBut,â€ 
 	said 
 	Laura, 
 	seized 
 	with 
 	irritation, 
 	â€œtheyâ€™re a matched set. They al have the same answer. Whatâ€™s the answer to the second one?â€​par 	â€œThe dragon,â€ said Michaelmas. â€œBut look you, this is clean impossible. The unicorns pursue not the dragon; nor maketh the dragon that which putteth words to the fluteâ€™s song.â€​par 	â€œAre you sure?â€ said Laura. â€œBecause the one who gave us the riddles said that when we knew these things, then what manner of thing he was we would know also. And he talked as if he could fly; and he had a red light in his eyes.â€​par 	â€œWhere met you this man?â€​aid Michaelmas. 
 	He had found what he was looking for: a large brass bel . 
 	He rang vigorously, and Chalcedony came across the room and took it out of his hand. 
 	â€œThe cookâ€™s asleep,â€​he said. â€œItâ€™s late. 
 	Iâ€™ve tea in my room.â€​par 	
 	She went out, and came back with a tray, giving Laura time to wonder if she had said too much to Michaelmas about the man in red. Fence didnâ€™t seem disturbed. 
 	The tea was extremely strong, and unsweetened, but it was hot. Laura decided that, if she real y couldnâ€™t stand to drink it, she would leave it sitting on the floor to get moldy, and nobody would know the difference. 
 	â€œWhere she met this man,â€ said Fence, when they were al settled, â€œis al entangled with the matter of Shanâ€™s Ring. Now, Iâ€™d meant to tel you of that; â€™tis knowledge you can sift better than we, and of a sort that does belong in this Library. But Iâ€™d as lief thâ€™other party had it not.â€​par 	â€œHad it never, or not for this present time?â€ said Michaelmas. 
 	â€œNot for this present time.â€​par 	Michaelmas looked over Lauraâ€™s head to where Chalcedony sat on the table with Celia. Laura craned over her shoulder in time to see Chalcedony looking whimsical. 
 	Chalcedony said, â€œHow long must this present time endure?â€​par 	â€œA year and a day,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Both Michaelmas and Chalcedony fel upon this proposal with scorn, and there fol owed about twenty minutes of wrangling. Laura, comfortably ensconced with a purring cat in a cushioned chair so big that she could pul her legs up into it, a chair that moreover was not jogging her anywhere at a pace too fast for comfort, did not pay them much attention. Both members of the Library staff appeared to view with horror the notion of hiding knowledge from anybody, even an unknown group of shape-shifters that had impersonated the party from the Hidden Land and made off with their boats. Patrick tried to enter the fray and was abjured to shut up, unsuccessful y by El en and successful y by Fence. Laura dozed, hearing dimly the four of them snapping â€œNine months!â€ â€œA fortnight!â€ â€œSix months!â€ at one another like people bargaining in a market. 
 	Laura shot to wakefulness as her relaxing hand tipped the mug and spil ed warm tea al over her knees. It wouldnâ€™t show on the dark green of her hose. Michaelmasâ€™s cushions, however, were of yel ow silk with a fetching border of running squirrels. She mopped surreptitiously at them with the hem of her cloak. 
 	Fence said, â€œUntil spring, then,â€ and Michaelmas nodded. 
 	Laura decided to drink the rest of her tea. It would be safer inside her; and she might need to stay awake. 
 	Fence explained what Ruth had discovered about Shanâ€™s Ring, and what, he kindly said, Patrick and Laura had discovered about the swords of Shan and Melanie. Laura, listening to him, was stricken with a combination of admiration and horror. He wasnâ€™t lying. 
 	You couldnâ€™t say he was lying. But he conveyed the impression that Lauraâ€™s own world was a third version of the Secret Country, as the glassy place Ruth had gotten into was a second version of it. This concept was apparently a pet theory of Michaelmasâ€™s; he thought that, if there were a second version devoted to bargaining with unicorns, there must be a third one devoted to bargaining with dragons. Chalcedony pointed out, in the tone of one who has said this before and knows she wil have to say it again, that never in the history of the world had anybody bargained with a dragon or any dragon evidenced the slightest desire to bargain with anybody. Michaelmas agreed with her but seemed not to think it mattered. 
 	Laura was interested to see that Fence agreed with him and Celia did not. Matthew, if he had an opinion, did not vouchsafe it. He said, â€œForget not the man in the stark house.â€​par 	Fence gave him a look half-grateful and half-impatient, and told Michaelmas about the man in the stark house, who, in addition to the characteristics mentioned by Laura earlier, wore red, and used cardinals as messengers, and knew three riddles about the unicorns, and used mirrors as if they were windows, and cal ed himself Apsinthion. 
 	â€œI would I could see his face,â€​aid Michaelmas. 
 	Laura had to clear her throat, it was so long since she had spoken. â€œMy lord, he looks like Fence and Randolph,â€
 	she said. 
 	She felt sil y as soon as she had said it, but Michaelmas looked suddenly alert. â€œIn what particulars?â€​e said. 
 	Laura ral ied her courage, gave herself time to think even though Patrick was bumping his foot impatiently against the leg of his chair, and spoke. â€œHe had black hair, but it was straight like Fenceâ€™s,â€ she said. â€œHe was shâ€”as tal as Fence. He had Randolphâ€™s hands and nose, and his chin, but his eyes were round like Fenceâ€™s. His voice wasnâ€™t like either of theirs, but I recognized something about it.â€​par 	â€œHigh or low?â€​aid Michaelmas. 
 	â€œLow,â€ said Laura, â€œand rather crackly.â€ She heard him in her mindâ€™s ear, saying, Oho. Sits the wind in that quarter? â€œOh,â€ she said. â€œIt wasnâ€™t his voice, it was the way he said things.â€ She stared at Michaelmas. That dry voice, talking as if everything it said were a joke you werenâ€™t getting. â€œIn the way of unicorns,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œWould their fancy take them so far?â€ said Michaelmas to Fence. 
 	â€œTo wear red?â€ said Fence. â€œTo come under a roof in that place wherein dragons may bargain?â€​par 	Laura didnâ€™t see why not, but Michaelmas seemed to find this a cogent argument. â€œThe other, then,â€ he said, slowly. â€œWel , Fence, what are thou and Randolph, commingled?â€​par 	â€œAn il fighter and a worse wizard,â€​aid Fence, dryly. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s amiss with Randolph, then?â€ said Chalcedony. â€œHe was your excel ent good student when I saw him last.â€​par 	â€œI jested,â€​aid Fence, very shortly indeed. 
 	Laura looked quickly at Chalcedony. She seemed doubtful, but said no more. Fence was getting careless; things must be weighing on him. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Fence, and stood up. â€œYou have your knowledge, the which you may impart to any visitors you wil , in the spring. We have the answer to one riddle, and with that, I think, we must content ourselves and depart. I had rather have these meddlers behind me than ahead of me. 
 	Can you direct their researches into some byway of detail, Michaelmas, until weâ€™re a day gone?â€​par 	â€œYou canâ€™t go unsatisfied,â€ said Michaelmas. 
 	â€œStay but an hour; Prosperoâ€™s your man for riddles; Iâ€™l wake him.â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™l â€”â€ began Chalcedony, and looked at Celia, and shut her lips. 
 	â€œThereâ€™s no need, iâ€™truth,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œIâ€™truth, there is,â€ said Michaelmas, standing up also. He was as tal as Benjamin, but half as broad. 
 	â€œWeâ€™ve sent no one hence so soon since Shan came to us; and that once wil serve us a mort of years. Sit down. Those who shadow you are long abed, awaiting report from some three of our apprentices. And that,â€ said Michaelmas, coming around his desk and frowning, â€œmight have been a sign to me, had I been quicker. 
 	When did the scholars of High Castle send apprentices to do their reading for them? Wel ,â€ he said again, and putting a hand on Fenceâ€™s shoulder bore him back into his chair. â€œRest, and Iâ€™l bring Prospero.â€​e left. 
 	â€œRest,â€ said Fence; he sounded as if he were going to fol ow it up with â€œHa!â€ but in fact he said, â€œCelia? 
 	Thou mayst take this chance to hobnob with thy schoolfel ow.â€​par 	â€œIf she can spare the odd hour,â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œGladly,â€​aid Chalcedony. 
 	They went out together, Celia bestowing on Fence as she went by a very curious look, compounded of wryness, reproach, and irritation. Their footsteps sounded on the stone floor outside, and a door opened and closed again. 
 	The two rings on the desk winked in the golden light, and burst suddenly on Lauraâ€™s eyes like a display of fireworks. Huge shapes of fire blossomed against a starry sky. They il uminated, fal ing, the massive bulk of a square castle set in the middle of a sheet of water. Blue and green and red and yel ow shot streaming across the sky and rippled blurrily on the surface of the water. Very faintly, she heard Tedâ€™s voice cry, â€œHave at you now!â€​par 	She blinked, breathing hard, and the two rings winked tranquil y at her. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Laura, â€œdonâ€™t you think you should take those rings back?â€​par 	â€œNo doubt,â€ said Fence, and coming forward he picked them up and dropped them into his pouch. His mild gaze lingered on Laura, but he said nothing. El en glared at her, but she didnâ€™t say anything either. Laura expected to be tackled later. She ought to tel them about this vision, right now. Some reluctance she could not define nor defeat closed her throat. The dread of her dreams was with her stil , the baseless feeling that Fence was not a safe repository of confidences. 
 	â€œNow,â€ said Matthew, leaning forward. â€œWhat in truth, Fence, do thou and Randolph make, commingled?â€​par 	â€œA fool and his twin,â€​aid Fence, turning around and leaning on Michaelmasâ€™s desk. His face was not encouraging. 
 	Patrick said, â€œI wondered when youâ€™d think of that.â€​par 	â€œThou wert not oâ€™er-hasty wiâ€™thy advice,â€
 	said Fence; his voice wasnâ€™t encouraging either. 
 	â€œWhy let him know weâ€™d caught on, if thereâ€™s anything to catch on to; if thereâ€™s not, why offend him?â€​par 	â€œI am of two minds, to go or stay,â€ said Fence to Matthew. â€œHow wel acquainted is Celia with Chalcedony?â€​par 	â€œVery wel , once,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	â€œSheâ€™d know a deception?â€​par 	â€œVery like,â€ said Matthew; and got up suddenly. 
 	â€œWhereforeâ€”â€​e said. 
 	â€œSheâ€™s seasoned,â€ said Fence, irritably. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s thy acquaintance with Michaelmas?â€​par 	â€œIt is but slight,â€ said Matthew. â€œProspero, however, I do know wel .â€​par 	â€œMayhap thou shouldst wake him,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œFence, if weâ€™re contemplating leaving soon, should we disperse al over the castle?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œIf Michaelmas is not himself,â€ said Fence, â€œit is too late. Matthew, go.â€​par 	Matthew went. Laura would have obeyed that tone too, no matter how unwelcome the task it assigned her. She was beginning to feel cold, although this was the warmest room she had been in since they came back. She looked at El en. 
 	El en wore a half-smile and an air of deep interest. Laura gave up on her. 
 	â€œNow,â€ said Fence. â€œHeed this lesson. The hair meaneth appearance, the hands deeds, the eyes intention, the height potential, and the dress desire.â€​par 	El en and Patrick and Laura al looked at him blankly. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said El en, after a moment, â€œthat might make sense if somebody were drawing a picture.â€​par 	â€œIf the man in the stark house is the Judge of the Dead, or a unicorn gone mad, or some other great power,â€ said Fence, â€œthen he is but a picture; a weareth that shape but as a garment.â€​par 	â€œWhy should the garment tel us anything?â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œAny shape-changer is constrained by his nature,â€
 	said Fence. 
 	â€œOf course,â€​aid Patrick, rol ing his eyes. 
 	â€œAny artist is named by his work,â€​aid Fence, rather sharply. â€œThink onâ€™t in that light, an it please thee better.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m sorry,â€ said Patrick, to Lauraâ€™s shock. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t mean to fault your explanations. But itâ€™s al so subjective.â€​par 	They embarked on a discussion that Laura didnâ€™t listen to. She was remembering what Fence had said. 
 	When there was a pause in the conversation, Laura marshal ed her list careful y and leaped into the gap. 
 	â€œSo,â€ 
 	she 
 	said, 
 	â€œheâ€™s 
 	got 
 	your and
 	Randolphâ€™s appearanceâ€”â€​par 	â€œWhich is obvious anyway,â€ said Patrick, with such alacrity that she knew Fence had been getting the better of the argument. 
 	â€œIt meaneth, the outward seeming where that differeth from the inward form,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œâ€”Randolphâ€™s deeds, both your intentions, and a desire for redness.â€​par 	â€œAnd a limited potential,â€ said Fence, grinning at her. â€œAn my middle name be not tact, I know whose is.â€​par 	â€œWhatâ€™s a desire for redness?â€​aid El en. 
 	
 	Fence shrugged. â€œThe knowledge of the Red Sorcerers,â€ he said. â€œFire. Iron. Blood. The carnation.â€​par 	â€œWisdom,â€ said El en, suddenly. â€œDonâ€™t you remember? Black for death, yel ow for sickness, white for health, gold for faith, violet for purity, silver for treachery. And the major schools of sorcery: red for wisdom, blue for sorrow, green for novelty.â€​par 	â€œThat was the game,â€​aid Patrick, scornful y. 
 	â€œItâ€™s true just the same,â€ said Fence. He was beginning to look tired. â€œSo. What have we, then? A man whose intentions are whatever few Randolph and I yet have in common, whose desire is for wisdom, whose deeds are murderous, and whose power is smal .â€​par 	â€œThat doesnâ€™t seem to get us anywhere,â€ said El en. 
 	â€œHave patience,â€ said Fence. He sat down again and propped his forehead on his hands. The thick, il -cut hair tumbled over his scraped knuckles; he always forgot to put his gloves on until he had bumped his hands on something. 
 	He had a birch leaf caught in his col ar. Laura looked at him worriedly. She herself might be stupid, and just now figuring out what they were talking about; but indeed Fence ought to have thought sooner that, if there were shape-shifters loose in Heathwil Library who could look like the party from the Hidden Land, they might just as wel appear as members of the Library staff. 
 	Nobody said anything. Patrick got up restlessly and began examining the room, poking into corners and lifting piles of papers. El en looked at Fence, as if expecting a remonstrance; when none came, she got up and began an exploration of her own. Lauraâ€™s cat jumped out of her lap, climbed into El enâ€™s abandoned chair, and went to sleep again. The cats Patrick and El en had disturbed fol owed them around the room. 
 	Laura left them to it, and watched Fence, and thought about shape-shifters. There must be several kinds. There were the ones they had fought in the battle with the Dragon King, which Matthew said were held to seven shapes only. 
 	Then there were the ones that could look like other people; and then there were the ones that could look like whatever they chose, except that it would reveal their nature one way or another. 
 	â€œFence?â€​he said. 
 	Fence looked up, with his usual accommodating expression. 
 	Laura said, â€œWere the horses you threw El enâ€™s cloak over the kind of shape-shifter that is held to only seven shapes?â€​par 	â€œFive,â€ said Fence. â€œHorse, cat, dog, eagle, unicorn.â€​par 	Those were the animals in al the tapestries about Shan. 
 	Laura decided to ask about that later. She said, resignedly, â€œWhat other kinds are there?â€​par 	â€œThose held to three shapes, to five, to seven, and to nine. Al these are animal shapes only. Those that have a shape of their own and can but mimic other forms ofâ€™t, as a young white hart may make itself a mighty buck or a helpless fawn; or a child form itself as an old woman. Those that have no shape of their own but may form themselves as they wil , by memory or by imagination.â€​par 	
 	Wel , she hadnâ€™t been completely wrong. â€œSo the ones looking like us could be either of the last two kinds? 
 	Because if they were people to begin with, they could look like other people? Or if they could form themselves as they would, they could also look like other people?â€​par 	â€œWel done,â€​aid Fence, and smiled at her. 
 	Then he stopped smiling, at the sound of footsteps. 
 	Celia and Chalcedony came back into the room. 
 	Chalcedony looked sober and Celia irate. Celia sat down next to Fence, in the chair vacated by El en. 
 	â€œThis ladyâ€™s herself,â€ she said. â€œShe saith that were Michaelmas other, sheâ€™d knowâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œWherefore we must look to Prospero,â€ said Chalcedony. 
 	â€œBoth Michaelmas and Matthew have gone to fetch him,â€ said Fence. â€œChalcedony, how wel doth Michaelmas know Prospero?â€​par 	â€œAs wel as a knoweth anyone,â€ said Chalcedony. 
 	â€œWhich is to say, did a expect to see Prospero, a child waving a rag on a broom-handle and talking with a raspy voice might persuade him.â€​par 	â€œGreat,â€ said Patrick, from the opposite end of the room. 
 	â€œBut Matthew would note a deception,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œThe matter,â€ said Celia, between her teeth, â€œis, what may not Michaelmas tel a seeming Prospero atween Prosperoâ€™s room and this?â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s the matter,â€​aid Fence. 
 	More footsteps in the hal averted what would certainly have been an argument. Michaelmas came back into the room, fol owed by a remarkable figure. Prospero wore a black, starry robe like Fenceâ€™s, except that al the stars were embroidered in some metal ic thread in every possible color, and they had the obligingness to stay stil when you looked at them. He had white hair rather like Einsteinâ€™s, and a magnificent white beard tucked into his belt. He looked so very much like a wizard that Laura wondered about him. 
 	â€œWelcome to Heathwil Library,â€ he said. He had a deep voice, and a slight accent; he said his Lâ€™s oddly, as if he were on the verge of tril ing them into Râ€™s but could never quite make up his mind to it. His Râ€™s he said as Laura and her relations did; people in the Hidden Land tril ed theirs a little, especial y when they were excited. 
 	â€œThank you,â€​aid Fence. 
 	He stood up and bowed, and then looked at Chalcedony. 
 	She bit her lip. â€œProspero,â€ she said, â€œwhere are my ten pennies?â€​par 	â€œI gave you them a month since,â€ said a voice in the doorway. It was a deep voice, and rather raspy. Its owner was a tal man in an embroidered black robe who looked exactly like a wizard. 
 	â€œWil the real Prospero please stand up,â€ said Patrick, in a tone of considerable enjoyment. 
 	The first Prospero turned and looked at the second. On their identical faces were identical expressions of amusement; they looked like Patrick and Ted in the middle of a contest of puns. They looked so exactly alike that Laura doubted both of them. She was glad they were enjoying themselves; an angry shape-shifter was not something she cared to think about; nor was an angry wizard. 
 	El en said, â€œWhereâ€™s Matthew?â€​par 	
 CHAPTER 24

 	TED wasnâ€™t accomplishing anything with the windows. 
 	He found Claudia again. Her fire had burned low and the cats were asleep. She was not; the smal red light glimmered in her open eyes. She was staring straight out of the window at him, but her gaze was unfocused. Her mouth drooped a little. She looked as if she were waiting for something unpleasant, without either fear or resignation. 
 	Ted thought this might be the first real y natural expression he had ever seen on her face; even the several flashes of anger he had witnessed seemed now, next to this calm distaste, contrived for someone elseâ€™s benefit. 
 	Andrewâ€™s clear, unimpassioned voice said behind him, â€œCanst thou catch my sister in the net of her own contrivances?â€​par 	Tedâ€™s stomach clenched, both at the question and at the uncanny echo of his thoughts; but he managed not to start. He turned around. Andrew knelt on the floor next to him, looking not unfriendly. 
 	â€œI suppose it might not be her own contrivance,â€​aid Ted, laying his hand on the window. It was warmer than his skin, and repel ent in some indefinable way; not exactly greasy, not exactly sticky, not exactly rough. He removed his hand. â€œSomebody might have made it for her; or she might have taken it over. But she did use it. I saw her.â€​par 	He was talking too much. Andrew might be about to learn everything; but he might not. Andrew, looking over Tedâ€™s shoulder at the pane in which Claudia sat, did not question him further. And Ted, looking at Andrewâ€™s face, a little lined with tiredness, did not want to be the one to shatter Andrewâ€™s il usions about his sister. 
 	â€œWhereâ€™s everybody else?â€​e said. 
 	Andrew shook his head, and turned away from his sister and her fire. â€œContriving baths, and a meal,â€ he said. 
 	â€œWe must look our best when we seek to parley with the dead.â€​par 	His tone showed that he thought this a sil y notion; Ted thought he probably considered it sil y quite apart from his disbelief in the possibility of talking to the dead. 
 	â€œIt is possible to talk to the dead, you know,â€ said Ted. â€œIâ€™ve been there.â€​par 	â€œTruly, do you believe this?â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œTruly, I do,â€​aid Ted. 
 	There was a protracted pause. Andrew sat back on his heels and rubbed a soiled finger over his moustache. 
 	â€œForgive me,â€ he said. â€œThis thought wil not be father to any action. But hearing you speak so, my liege, I do find in me for the first time some smal , weak understanding of Randolphâ€™s reasoning, when he did murder thy father.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™ve been speaking so,â€ said Ted, recoiling hurriedly upon the safer area of this supremely unsafe speech, â€œal along. What did you think, that I was lying? 
 	That I was part of some conspiracy of wizards to deceive the populace? I take that badly, my lord,â€ said Ted, looking Andrew straight in his troubled brown eyes. â€œI take that very badly.â€ And he did, on behalf of Edward, who might have been stuffy but had certainly been honorable and had probably never told a lie in his short life. 
 	
 	â€œIf youâ€™re not a deceiver, then you are one of the deceived,â€ said Andrew, unruffled. â€œTake you that in better part?â€​par 	â€œBetter a fool than a knave,â€​aid Ted, bitterly. 
 	â€œOh, aye,â€ said Andrew, growing rather heated, â€œa fool to be cozened by such a knave as Randolph. 
 	This conspiracy thou deniest did slay thy father.â€​par 	â€œRandolph didnâ€™t do it,â€ said Ted. And that was almost true. Claudia had done it; Laura and Ruth and El en and Patrick had done it; Ted had done it, literal y, when he knocked from Randolphâ€™s hand the poisoned bottle into which Andrew had already slipped an antidote. 
 	â€œGive me strength!â€ cried Andrew, jumping to his feet and glaring down at Ted. 
 	â€œAnd Iâ€™l tel you something else,â€ said Ted, tipping his head and glaring back. â€œNobody is a fool in every part. I might be deceived in Randolph, and stil have the right of it concerning magic. Or I might be deceived by this pack of rogue magicians, and stil know Randolphâ€™s heart better than my own. Do you think on that, my lord.â€​par 	â€œIf you did think Randolph harmless and kindly,â€ said Andrew, breathlessly, â€œwhy knocked you that bottle from his hand the day the King died?â€​par 	Ted was beyond caution. â€œBecause it did pass by you, my lord, ere it came to him.â€​par 	â€œIs that the story you hope wil fadge?â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œYou did put somewhat in that bottle,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWhat I put in that bottle, sweet prince,â€ said Andrew, whitely, â€œwas an antidote.â€​par 	
 	â€œAnd who told you youâ€™d need one?â€​par 	â€œMy sister.â€​par 	Ted no longer felt so tender of Andrewâ€™s il usions. 
 	â€œYour sister kil ed the King,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œShe knew not youâ€™d knock Randolphâ€™s arm.â€​par 	â€œShe could make me knock Randolphâ€™s arm if she had to,â€ said Ted, â€œand she did know Iâ€™d do it, becauseâ€”oh, hel , itâ€™s too complicated. She did it, Andrew. Iâ€™m sorry, but she did.â€​par 	â€œAnd thatâ€™s what this mummery of visiting among the dead is to accomplish,â€ said Andrew, very quietly. He leaned on the left-hand wal . Behind his sleek brown head the ghostly mountains of the Secret Country floated like clouds, and a little wind rippled the water of the lake. Ted saw with compunction that Andrew was shaking. But Andrewâ€™s voice, when he went on, was perfectly steady. 
 	â€œYouâ€™l show us by your vile il usionistâ€™s arts the piteous figure of the murdered King, al pale and wan, distraction inâ€™s aspect, pointing a shaky finger crying, â€˜he, â€™twas she, thy sister, Andrew! â€™â€​par 	â€œWhat the hel good would that do?â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œHow should the King know who did it?â€​par 	That remark, he was pleased to see, stopped Andrew. 
 	â€œIâ€™d thought the dead knew al things.â€​par 	â€œWhy should they?â€ said Ted. He grinned suddenly. 
 	â€œYes, I know; they should in order that they may serve the conspiracy of wizards. But real y, Andrew, I donâ€™t see why they should know any more than they did while they were alive.â€ He felt much better, for a moment. Then he stopped grinning. Edward had certainly known who kil ed him. Ted did not know if Edward had found this out before or after he died. What did go on down there? â€œWel ,â€
 	said Ted, â€œweâ€™l have to wait and see, wonâ€™t we?â€​par 	Â 
 	They had their baths, and Ted began to understand Ruthâ€™s views on the subject of hot water. They dressed in clean, if creased, clothing. They foraged in the garden behind the house, which reassuringly was not laid out like the garden of the house near High Castle. They found an orchard behind the garden. They ate their limited meal. They sat on the dusty floor of the dining room in a litter of apple cores and dirty bowls, and looked at one another. 
 	â€œâ€˜ever put off,â€™â€ said Ruth, quoting Agatha. 
 	â€œRandolph, how do we get where weâ€™re going?â€​par 	â€œThrough the cel ar,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œOh, great,â€ said Ted. â€œI suppose itâ€™s ful of cobwebs and spiders and al the doors creak?â€​par 	â€œIn Claudiaâ€™s house,â€ said Randolph, dryly, â€œI doubt the doors creak not.â€ He stood up, brushing crumbs of oatcake from his shirt. â€œTed?â€​e said. 
 	Ted, startled at being addressed by his ordinary name, stared at him. Randolph said, â€œIs it cold below?â€​par 	â€œHavenâ€™t you ever been there?â€ said Ted, without thinking. 
 	Randolph didnâ€™t answer him. Ted said, â€œI was dead. It didnâ€™t feel like anything. It looked cold. 
 	Thereâ€™s a river and a lot of mist. Letâ€™s not go dancing down there in our shirt-sleeves, if thatâ€™s what you mean. Weâ€™l be cold with nerves, if nothing else.â€
 	Nerves was right; he was talking too much. Ruth, sitting on the floor across from him in a welter of blue wool and pink legwarmers, smiled and shook her head. 
 	They al stood up and put on some or al of their outer garments. Randolph took something rather like a hurricane lamp from a carved shelf. It was made of a rough, greeny metal like the door knocker, and consisted of three cats wound lovingly around the central glass chimney, their tails encircling it at the top and their bodies at the bottom. 
 	Randolph made a smal motion in the air with his free hand, and a little flame bloomed obediently from the candle in the middle of the lamp. Without a word, he walked through the hal into the kitchen, and they fol owed him. 
 	The door to the cel ar was undersized, but otherwise normal. Randolph pushed it open and ducked through it. He went down the steep flight of steps, set the lamp on a short stone pil ar, and beckoned to Ted. Ted came cautiously down the steps, and the others fol owed. 
 	The cel ar was a little damp and completely empty. Its floor was made of great blocks of stone, like the floors of High Castle. Two of these had been propped up. Darkness gaped below them. Randolph held the lantern down near the opening, and Ted bent over next to him and looked. A clean smel of rock and water rose from the depths. A shaft wal ed with stone blocks dropped maybe twenty feet to a stone-block floor. Down at the bottom of the shaft were six square dark doorways. Thick metal bars were fastened into two of the wal s of the shaft, to make ladders. They shone as bright as a wel -kept sword, with no sign of rust. 
 	â€œThis lamp casts a lot of light,â€​aid Ted. 
 	
 	â€œâ€™Twil cast less below,â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œOnly honest lightâ€™s al owed below, and this flameâ€™s someways tainted with sorcery.â€​par 	Ted wondered at his choice of words; was he baiting Andrew? 
 	Randolph went down the ladder one-handed, carrying the lamp. Then he stood at the bottom, out of the way, and held the light for the rest of them. The metal bars were so cold that Ted expected his hands to stick to them. It was colder at the bottom of the shaft than in the cel ar. 
 	Ted began to fasten, absently, the brooch of his cloak, watching Ruthâ€™s nimble progress down the ladder and worrying a little about Andrewâ€™s intent eyes on her downbent head. Then some warmth, some slight tingling, in his cold hands made him look at the brooch. It was of twisted silver, set with a blue stone. He had taken it from Shanâ€™s robe of state, in the West Tower, on that day in August when he and Randolph chose their costumes for the feast at which the King died. He tried to remember, of al the times he had fastened and unfastened this cloak in the course of their journey, one in which he had noticed the brooch. He couldnâ€™t. He finished fastening it, and said nothing. 
 	â€œWhat passage?â€​aid Andrew, arriving last. 
 	 Lo!  said Edward, richly and pleasurably. Death hath reared himself a throne / In a strange city, lying alone / Far down among the dim West, / Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best / Have gone to their eternal rest. 
 	And, â€œWest,â€ said Randolph, â€œbut westward, look, the land is bright.â€​par 	
 	The western passage was perhaps seven feet high, and seven feet wide, clean, cold, and empty. The wavering light of the cat-lantern made and then spurned behind it twisty shadows that proved, when walked through, to hold only air. 
 	Little echoes ran away from their footsteps. Ted felt no urge to yel something and hear its echo come back to him. There was nothing here to dislike, and yet he did not like it here. 
 	After fifteen minutes or so, Ruth, who had been ranging among the company like somebody looking for a dropped pin, fel into step with him and put a cold hand in his. 
 	â€œThis place mislikes me,â€​he said. 
 	â€œYou too? I thought I felt so creepy because Iâ€™ve been there before.â€​par 	â€œDonâ€™t turn around,â€ said Ruth, â€œbut Andrewâ€™s got a look on his face as if heâ€™s being fol owed by a hoofed fiend.â€​par 	This seemed to wake up Edward. â€œâ€˜e can sleep while the commonwealth crumbles,â€™ â€ repeated Ted, hazily, â€œ â€˜ut a strange sound in the pantry at three in the morning wil strike terror into his stomach.â€™ â€​par 	Ruth exploded into giggles, then stopped suddenly and said, â€œWhy are you quoting Thurber?â€​par 	Ted said, â€œEdward was.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know why that should be any more mysterious than Edward quoting Shakespeare,â€ said Ruth, â€œbut it seems so.â€​par 	â€œI know,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œTed? Was it real y bad down there?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s a fine place to visit,â€ said Ted, seized by a desire to laugh, â€œbut I wouldnâ€™t want to live there.â€​par 	
 	Ruth squeezed his hand. â€œYou must have a pulse of a hundred and fifty,â€ she said. â€œYour handâ€™s al sweaty.â€​par 	â€œYou can go hold Randolphâ€™s hand if youâ€™d rather,â€ said Ted, irritated. â€œWhat does he look like he thinks is fol owing him?â€​par 	Ruth didnâ€™t let go; nor did she seem angry. â€œHe doesnâ€™t look like he thinks anything is fol owing him,â€
 	she said. â€œHe looks as pleased as punch.â€​par 	â€œI was afraid of that,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œAnd I wouldnâ€™t hold Randolphâ€™s hand for a wager,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Something in her tone made Ted wary of questioning her. 
 	They walked on. The passageway sloped downward. After a while a breeze began blowing up it. The lantern Randolph carried dimmed and wavered. The passage turned a sharp corner, and another, and another. Then a square of dim gray light made itself known ahead of them. They stepped through it, out onto a glimmering, featureless plain, under a dul , gray, misty sky. 
 	It was subtly different from the place in which Ted had found himself after he was kil ed in the battle. After a little thought, he realized why. He had not been, real y, in the land of the dead. He had been on its borders. They had refused to let him cross the river, because he was neither dead nor alive, but being bargained for. Why he and his companions, who were unequivocal y alive, had been al owed this time into the very midst of this realm, he had no idea. But they were in it, and probably in for it, now. 
 	â€œWel ,â€​aid Andrew, â€œcal your ghosts.â€​par 	
 	Ted stared at him. They had forgotten the blood. The ghosts would talk to you if you gave them blood to drink. 
 	â€œLiving man,â€ they had said to him, â€œhast thou brought blood?â€ Edward had talked to him without it, but Edward had recognized himself. Shan and whoever else Randolph might want to talk to would probably not be so accommodating. 
 	The lantern went out. Randolph set it on the ground and put a hand on his belt. Ted, in the wake of a horrible suspicion, leapt wildly at Randolph and grabbed his arm with both hands. â€œOh, no, you donâ€™t,â€​e said. 
 	Randolph looked at him without surprise. â€œIt needs but a little,â€ he said. â€œDo it thyself, if thou wilt.â€ And as Tedâ€™s nerveless hands fel from his arm, he pul ed the dagger out of his belt and offered it. 
 	Everybody else was staring. Ted felt profoundly stupid, but he did not quite regret his action. Randolph wanted to die, and his moods had been erratic. Ted took the dagger. Its hilt was silver, with blue stones in it. Ted wondered if Randolph was stil al owed to use it. Fence had not required it of him when he took Randolphâ€™s ring of sorcery away; and it did not make Tedâ€™s hand prickle as an enchanted weapon would. 
 	Randolph was holding out his hand to Ted. Ted took a firm hold of his chil y wrist, drew a deep breath, and made a smal cut on the side of Randolphâ€™s hand, where it should give the least trouble. A thin black line of blood sprang up. Randolph took the knife back, squeezed the blood onto its blade, knelt, and drove the knife up to its hilt in the gray stuff of the ground. 
 	â€œWe cal ,â€ he said, â€œby Chryseâ€™s blood and the mercy granted to Shan, the smilers with the knife under the cloak, the gracious presences of the Lords of the Dead.â€​par 	Then he stood and waited. Nothing happened. 
 	â€œThis entertainmentâ€™s someways lacking,â€ said Andrew, after perhaps fifteen minutes. He grinned at Ted. 
 	â€œIâ€™m for a jig, or a tale of bawdry, or I sleep. Iâ€™l go sit on the wholesome stone; do you cal me when your prompt arriveth.â€ And he turned his back on them, walked over to the little square stone house they had emerged from, and disappeared inside. 
 	Something in the air of the place, thought Ted, squelched the desire for action. Just standing and waiting was a wearisome task. He went on doing it. Nobody spoke. Then the character of the plain they stood on changed. It might have been a field of white flowers under the moon. 
 	Somebody was walking toward them, a short, slight figure. 
 	He came closer, a young man with dark hair and decided eyebrows, with a cat on his shoulder. He wore a robe like those worn in High Castle, like Apsinthionâ€™s. It might have been red. 
 	The young man came to within two feet of Randolph, and said, â€œWho cal eth Shan?â€ He had a light, very pleasant voice, a voice you would like to hear reading to you at bedtime when you were very young. But now we are six, said Edward. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ 
 	said 
 	Randolph, 
 	â€œKingâ€™s
 	Counselor of the Hidden Land.â€​par 	â€œYou are welcome,â€ said Shan, gravely. â€œTake back my greetings to the world of light. How may I serve you?â€​par 	
 	â€œAct as our ambassador to the Lords of the Dead,â€
 	said Randolph. â€œThey answer not, and our errand is most urgent.â€​par 	â€œI wil essay it,â€ said Shan. He cocked his head, and his inquisitive eyes moved from one to another of them, and final y returned to Randolph, at whom he looked steadily for a very long time. Randolph returned the look, with no particular expression; but Ted, behind him, saw how his hands clenched in the folds of his cloak. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s amiss?â€ said Shan at last, in the friendly and resigned tones of a parent or a cousin. 
 	â€œNaught that death canâ€™t mend,â€ said Randolph, tranquil y. 
 	 â€œRandolph,â€​ said Ted, stepping forward. 
 	Shan looked at him; and stared; and put out a hand. Ted felt it on his arm, very lightly, like the brushing by oneâ€™s legs of a cat that has other business. â€œEdward Fairchild,â€​aid Shan. â€œHow art thou translated?â€​par 	â€œEdward Fairchildâ€™s dead,â€ said Ted. â€œI come from elsewhere; and I came,â€ he added, â€œby your sword.â€​par 	Shanâ€™s whole face lit up in a flash of delight so intense that Ted found himself smiling back. â€œThat,â€
 	said Shan, â€œis news I have waited long to hear. Soft you now,â€ he said, apparently to himself, and stopped smiling. 
 	â€œHow came Edward Fairchild dead?â€​par 	 Faith, eâ€™en with losing his life, said Edward. 
 	Shanâ€™s head jerked upward and his hand fel from Tedâ€™s arm. The cat jumped from his shoulder and stalked away into the misty distance. â€œLeave thy unicornish games and speak to me,â€​han said. 
 	Then he stood waiting. His face was remote and a little worried. Ted considered his flesh-and-blood companions. 
 	Randolph was looking at Shan as if he were the answer to a prayer. Ruth was looking at Randolph as if he were crazy. 
 	After some indeterminate time, the shape of the cat returned across the flowery field, fol owed not by one figure but by five. Edward Fairchild, in an unlaced white shirt and hose and soft boots, a velvet cap on his head and on his face a kind of eager scorn, walked up to Shan, swept off the hat, and bowed. He was tal er than Shan, and tal er stil than Ted. Behind him the dimmer forms of Lady Ruth, of Prince Patrick and the Princesses Laura and El en, stood silent, the sourceless light gleaming in their eyes. Ted heard Ruth draw her breath in. 
 	Shan did not return Edwardâ€™s bow. He said, â€œHow came you here?â€​par 	â€œAsk thy lady,â€​aid Edward. 
 	â€œOh, Lord,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Lady Ruth said, â€œWhat distorting mirror is this?â€​par 	â€œBe quiet,â€ said Shan, without heat. â€œEdward: what power hath the Hidden Land over the Lords of Death?â€​par 	â€œThat the mercy granted to Shan did leave that land at the mercy of Melanie,â€ said Edward, with an astonishing bitterness. He sounded as if he were reciting a rote answer that had suddenly taken on meaning, and that meaning was not a welcome revelation but a disaster. 
 	â€œAnd what mercy did she show to thee?â€​par 	â€œAs much as she did show to you,â€ said Edward, more calmly. 
 	â€œWhat wouldst thou have then from the Lords of Death?â€​par 	â€œThat they bestow the same mercy upon Melanie as she did bestow upon us,â€ Edward rattled off, and flung his cap to the ground. â€œMy lord, this is fol y. Death is no mercy, nor is the death of our murderer a boon to us. We died almost before we lived. What wil it avail us to bring Melanie to cheer our exile? The boon I beg from the Lords of Death is our lives again, in their ful measure.â€​par 	â€œEdward,â€ said Ted, â€œyou told me to avenge your foul and most unnatural murder.â€​par 	Edward wheeled on him. This was not the diffident, stuffy prince Ted remembered from their last meeting. Edward said, â€œI was but half awake when I told thee that; and what else hadst thou power to do?â€ He turned back to Shan. â€œThe Lords of Death are very great in power; and by their debt to al my country, Shan the Red, I do demand this recompense. Let them sate their greed on Melanie; sheâ€™s lived more years than I and al my cousins can come close to. But send us home again.â€​par 	â€œWait,â€ said Ted. He pressed both hands to his head, where the blood was pounding like drumbeats. 
 	â€œWait. You told me Claudia kil ed you.â€​par 	â€œVerily, in that guise were we slain.â€​par 	Ted was speechless. Ruth came up beside him and said careful y, â€œ The Melanie? Who helped kil the unicorn?â€​par 	â€œShe is that.â€​par 	â€œAngels and ministers of grace defend us,â€ said Ruth. 
 	
 	Ted looked at her. Claudiaâ€™s being Melanie would explain a lot; but the explanations would be worse than the mysteries. â€œAmen,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œHow?â€ said Randolph to Edward. He had no expression at al , and there was very little breath behind his voice. 
 	â€œSheâ€™s of the blood of the unicorn,â€ said Edward, rather impatiently. 
 	Shan said, â€œShe hath a blithe spirit, when she doth choose to set it free. And in her time sheâ€™s learned every trick, great or trifling.â€​par 	Ted remembered that Shan had loved Melanie too. He was answering the question Randolph had real y asked. Ted watched this realization come more tardily to Randolph, who looked blankly at Shan and then nodded. 
 	â€œThou canst not flee her beneath the earth,â€ said Shan. 
 	Around them rose a thin murmuring, like the wind in a grove of wil ows. Ted looked up. The whole gray plain, which had seemed like a field of white flowers when Shan walked across it, was thronged with ghosts. Looking at them, he realized how solid by comparison Shan and Edward had become. Very distantly, a voice that was not Edwardâ€™s said, and what i want to know is / how do you like your blueeyed boy / Mister Death? 
 	â€œMelanie, the architect of al our woes,â€ said Randolph, as if Shan had said nothing at al . â€œWel , â€™tis tidier so. But heavens, what a web of deception must we now unravel.â€​par 	â€œAndrew thinks sheâ€™s his sister,â€ said Ruth, suddenly. She flung her cloak about her with a determined motion and marched off to the little stone house. She returned very shortly with Andrew, talking vigorously and keeping a wary eye on him, like somebody shut in a room with a bat. Andrew wore a weary, resigned look under which some wilder emotion was struggling to make itself known. 
 	Ted felt rather like that himself. 
 	â€œShan,â€ said Ted, â€œwhere are the Lords of Death?â€​par 	â€œThey came not,â€​aid Shan, perplexed. 
 	â€œCal them louder, then,â€ said Andrew, in a cracked voice. 
 	Shan turned and looked at him with an expression that froze Ted where he stood, although it was not aimed at him. 
 	Andrew stared back as if he were looking at a very badly painted picture. Shanâ€™s face cleared suddenly, and he said, â€œWhatâ€™s amiss here?â€​par 	â€œLeave thy damnable doctorings and cal thy masters,â€ said Edward. Shan swung on him as if he would have liked to knock him down; but Edward had forgotten him. He was gaping at Andrew; and then his anger seemed to clear away and he said, â€œMy Lord Andrew of the limpid thoughts. What do you in this cloudy place? Edward Carrol , this is very il done.â€​par 	â€œVery il done indeed,â€ said Andrew, â€œif you must be your own commentary.â€ He looked shaken just the same, and stood staring from Ted to Edward and back again. 
 	â€œShan,â€​aid Ted, â€œ please cal your masters.â€​par 	â€œThose are not my masters,â€ said Shan, his face shadowed again by a lighter version of the look he had turned on Edward. 
 	â€œAl right, Iâ€™m sorry. Iâ€™m a stranger. We have got to speak to the Lords of the Dead. This is getting out of hand.â€​par 	â€œYour presence alone should draw them,â€ said Shan. â€œForgive me; Iâ€™l return.â€ He disappeared into the crowd of ghosts. 
 	Tedâ€™s gaze, fol owing him and trying to distinguish his wake through the crowd, stuck suddenly on a very tal figure moving purposeful y toward them, out of the drifting mass of figures. It was King Wil iam. 
 	Ted took two steps and closed his hand hard around Randolphâ€™s arm. â€œBrace yourself,â€ he said, and pointed. 
 	Randolph looked along his extended arm, and Ted felt him shiver. Then he smiled, which was even worse. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t do anything stupid!â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThat advice cometh too late,â€ said Randolph; but he neither shook off Tedâ€™s hand nor advanced to meet the King. 
 	He did not need to. The King was coming to him. In his lined face were purpose and knowledge and recognition; but no anger, and no accusation. Maybe he didnâ€™t know. 
 	The ghosts of the royal children sank suddenly to their knees. Andrew, his face like a mask, knelt too. Randolph stood where he was; Ted, feeling obscurely that while he had hold of Randolph he had some smal control over the situation, stayed standing too. Ruth came up on Tedâ€™s other side and said, very softly, â€œWhy is Andrew kneeling for a bad play?â€​par 	King Wil iam stopped a foot away from Randolph and said in his firm, carrying voice, â€œHow fared the battle with the Dragon King?â€​par 	â€œMy lord, we have won it,â€ said Randolph. His voice was steady, but not very strong. 
 	â€œUsing what strategies?â€​aid the King. 
 	â€œMy lord, those in King Johnâ€™s Book.â€​par 	â€œThou hast done wel , then,â€ said the King; and he put his ringed hands on Randolphâ€™s shoulders and kissed him. 
 	Randolphâ€™s arm under Tedâ€™s was like wood. Ted was the one who was shivering. The King was within six inches of him; the trailing sleeve of the Kingâ€™s gown brushed Tedâ€™s hair. And yet Ted had no feeling of any living presence; no warmth, no breath, hardly even the differences in the feel of the air that one has from a chair or a wardrobe. But the figure of the King fil ed his vision and the Kingâ€™s voice lingered in his hearing. 
 	The King stood back from Randolph, stil holding him by the shoulders, and said, much more quietly, â€œBy the oath you swore me, dear friend, I do abjure you nowâ€”hold your tongue.â€​par 	â€œI thought al for the best,â€ said Randolph, as if he were in the middle of some other conversation altogether. 
 	â€œI know it,â€ said the King. â€œI tel thee again, Randolph, hold thy tongue. Take thy doom from the mouth of thy victim: guide my son, and confess not this deed.â€ He said in his original tones, â€œWhereâ€™s Fence?â€​par 	â€œGone north, my lord, to beg with Chryse and Belaparthalion that they wil impose some order on the Dragon King.â€​par 	â€œEdward,â€ said the King, turning his hol ow eyes on Ted. 
 	â€œHere, Father,â€​aid Edward from behind the King. 
 	The King turned; Ted saw his straight, broad back grow rigid. When he spoke he woke echoes, in this place that should be capable of none, and stil ed the murmuring dead. 
 	â€œWhat makest thou here below the earth?â€​par 	â€œOh, God,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Randolph leaned suddenly on Tedâ€™s shoulder and began to shiver. After a moment he sat down on the ground and put his face in his hands. Ted sat down with him, keeping hold of his arm. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t listen,â€ said Ruth. â€œRandolph. 
 	Donâ€™t listen. If you donâ€™t concentrate, the voices fade away.â€​par 	Randolph did not answer her; Ted, unable not to listen while actual y looking at the tight cluster of King and children, turned around. 
 	â€œAndrew?â€​aid Ted. â€œHow is it?â€​par 	Andrewâ€™s strained gaze, stretched wide over Tedâ€™s shoulder, jerked to Tedâ€™s face. Andrew said, in a stronger voice than Ted had been able to muster, â€œâ€™Tis a pretty show, my prince; you must show me the strings and the mirrors one day.â€​par 	â€œI hope,â€ said Ted, judging that concern was not what Andrew wanted from him, â€œthat you note the absence of the piteous figure and the shaky finger and the distraction in the aspect?â€​par 	â€œThe distractionâ€™s al in Randolphâ€™s,â€ said Andrew. 
 	This was inaccurate, since nobody could see Randolphâ€™s aspect. But Randolph instantly dropped his hands and tossed his hair out of his eyes. Ted let go of his arm, and Randolph laid a hand on Tedâ€™s knee. Ted suspected that it meant, â€œKeep your mouth shut.â€​par 	â€œâ€™Tis in your aspect also,â€​andolph said. 
 	â€œHe spoke you very lovingly for one so estranged in his philosophy,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œHeâ€™l speak you twice as fair do you but pluck his sleeve,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œHe loved you ever,â€ said Andrew. â€œI made him doubt you, but to hate you I could not move him one whit.â€​par 	â€œNor could your attempts move him to hate you,â€
 	said Randolph. â€œGo speak to him; youâ€™l have no peace else.â€​par 	Andrew looked over Tedâ€™s shoulder again, and shock wiped his face clear of al expression. â€œWith whom doth he speak so close?â€ he said. He snatched his horrified gaze back to Ted. â€œLady Ruth, in her habit as she lived,â€ he said. â€œWhat are you?â€ He half rose, tel ing over one by one the dim figures grouped around the King. 
 	Then he sat down hard and awkwardly, and looked for a very long time at Ruth. 
 	â€œEdward,â€ he said to her at last, â€œI cannot tel one from tâ€™other; but thee, my lady bright, I know for a false jade. My ladyâ€™s with her father; and what art thou?â€​par 	
 	â€œHold your tongue,â€​aid Ted, creakily. 
 	â€œWert puzzled?â€ said Andrew to Ruth, in rising tones. â€œWert much afeared? Didst wreck thy thoughts on the tangle of my mostâ€”â€ He let out a wavering breath very like a sob, and set himself, visibly, to regaining his control. â€œHow came matters to this pass?â€ he said at last; and he said it to Randolph. 
 	â€œLater,â€​aid Randolph. â€œSpeak to the King.â€​par 	Andrew got up unsteadily and walked past Ruth and Ted and Randolph. None of them watched him go. Randolph put one hand over his eyes for a moment, and said, â€œRuth, take not on so.â€​par 	Ted looked quickly at Ruth, who was choking into the crook of her elbow. Ruth never cried. 
 	â€œSorry,â€ said Ruth, thickly, from behind her arm and a cloud of hair. â€œWhat a fiasco.â€ She sniffed hard and shook herself as if she were about to emerge; then she said, â€œOh, hel ,â€​nd choked again. 
 	Randolph fished in his sleeve, and in his belt pouch, and then patted himself vaguely, like a man in a three-piece suit looking for his parking ticket. He final y pul ed a handkerchief from the sleeve of his cloak and tucked it into Ruthâ€™s hand. Ruth blew her nose and tidied her hair back from her face. 
 	â€œThereâ€™s Shan,â€ said Randolph, and stood up hurriedly. â€œI pray you pardon me.â€​par 	He strode past the clump of King, children, and Andrew, and walked into the clustering ghosts. They parted for him like a curtain of beads. Once Ted was alone with Ruth, he was able to pul her hair and say, â€œâ€˜ have a speech of fire that fain would blaze, but that this fol y douts it.â€™ â€​par 	â€œDonâ€™t quote Edward to me.â€ Ruth blew her nose again. 
 	There was some commotion among the ghosts. Ted looked over Ruthâ€™s shoulder and said, â€œRandolph did see Shan.â€​par 	Ruth stood up; so did Ted. Randolph and Shan were coming slowly toward them; Shan kept stopping to talk to the ghosts, who then grew noisy. It seemed that, after he had spoken to a group of them, its members grew more solid and distinguishable, and their voices less shril . 
 	Shan and Randolph came out of the crowd and crossed the open gray ground toward Ted and Ruth. Something in their walk, their disparate heights, the absorption on their faces, was familiar to Ted. As they arrived before him, and Shan bowed, Ted realized what it was. Just so were Fence and Randolph accustomed to pace around together, arguing. 
 	â€œWhat news?â€ said Ruth, in a not altogether natural tone. 
 	â€œGood for these folk,â€ said Shan, â€œbut bad, I fear, for al your party.â€​par 	â€œDonâ€™t tel me,â€ said Ruth. â€œThey heard we were coming and theyâ€™ve fled the country.â€​par 	â€œI know not what theyâ€™ve heard, my lady, but in truth, they are not here.â€​par 	â€œTheyâ€™re all gone?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œAl nine,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œWhat about the Judge of the Dead?â€​aid Ted. 
 	
 	â€œYou may speak to him, my lord, an you wil ,â€ said Shan. Ted surmised that Randolph had told him that Ted was the King of the Hidden Land. Shan went on, â€œBut he cannot act; he can but bring suasion to bear upon the Nine Lords, when they do return.â€​par 	â€œI want to ask him some riddles,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWhy bother with him?â€ said Ruth. â€œYouâ€™ve got Shan right in front of you.â€​par 	â€œAsk, by al means,â€ said Shan. â€œMost I meet here do ask me riddles, and cry aloud when I do answer them, for â€™tis too late. For you the answers may prove more timely. Say on.â€​par 	â€œWhat beast,â€ said Ted, obediently, â€œis it the unicorns pursue each summer?â€​par 	â€œThe dragon,â€​aid Shan, in a curious voice. 
 	â€œBefore what beast doth winter flee?â€​par 	â€œThe dragon.â€​par 	â€œAnd what beast maketh that which putteth words to the fluteâ€™s song?â€​par 	â€œNot the dragon,â€ said Shan. â€œThe third question is rightlyâ€”â€​par 	â€œBut whatâ€™s the answer to our third question; please?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	And Shan said, â€œThe Outside Power.â€​par 	The three living people looked at one another. 
 	â€œOutside power is unfurled,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Shan caught hold of his cloak, altering its hang only by a little; and said excitedly, â€œYou did use the Ring?â€​par 	
 	â€œWhy donâ€™t you tel us,â€ said Ruth, in a flat voice, â€œabout the Ring.â€​par 	â€œWhy donâ€™t we sit down?â€​aid Ted. 
 	They did. Watching Shan sit down was rather disturbing; where he and the ground met it was hard to tel which was which. The ground was soft, dry, and cold, and gave no reassurance by any of its characteristics that it would stil be there the next minute. 
 	Shan told them, with a loving attention to detail that reminded Ted of Patrick, about Shanâ€™s Ring. The unicorns had given it to him in reparation for some injury, which he did not elaborate. They had told him it would bring him his heartâ€™s desire. Shanâ€™s heartâ€™s desire, it appeared, was death. Randolph raised his head at this point, and he and Shan exchanged a very long look, which Shan ended by saying, â€œTake better heed than I was able of dear, beauteous death, the jewel of the just.â€​par 	Randolph said nothing, and Shan went on. He had thought, he said, that this remark of the unicorns was one of their cruel jests, because they themselves had deprived him o f his death. He thought of his next dearest desire, and whether Shanâ€™s Ring might aid him to achieve it. This was some means whereby the mere people of the Secret Country and its surrounding lands might receive justice from the magical creatures they lived with. There was no meeting ground between them, no appeal. The dragons and unicorns took offense, or took a fancy, and did what they would without consulting the people involved. 
 	Now the Red Sorcerers, of whom Shan was one, had been accustomed to use enchanted mirrors to see things far away. 
 	
 	â€œThatâ€™s a device of the Red Sorcerers?â€ broke in Randolph. Ted remembered the hand mirror in Fenceâ€™s room, that they had used to scan the two hundred and eight steps for signs of Claudia. He thought of the innumerable mirrors in the stark house of Apsinthion. 
 	Shan grinned at Randolph. â€œAye, Blue Mage, that it is.â€ He went on. He had found that if one looked in such a mirror while wearing Shanâ€™s Ring, one saw many and diverse places, some pleasant and some dangerous. In one of these places, which looked like the Hidden Land and yet unlike, he had seen unicorns. After a great deal of thought and what he cal ed â€œblundering,â€​e had made a sword to take him there. And on that ground he had proposed to the unicorns that they consent to bargain with anyone they had wronged who had the courage and the means to take himself there. The unicorns had been amused, and had consented; but there was a catch, as always. Anyone who found them on their bargaining ground might indeed bargain; but if he lost, worse would befal him than he had already suffered. If he won he would truly be better off; but it would be hard to win. 
 	â€œWhat about â€˜ime awry is blownâ€™?â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œThat,â€ said Shan, soberly, â€œis an incidental kindness of the unicorns the backlash whereof I do stil await. They do nothing that profits them not, but this attribute of the ring seemeth to profit only their petitioners. For look you, time in this place of the unicorns runneth quicklier; an Shanâ€™s Ring did not yoke it to the time of the human lands, for the duration of a human visit, even a man who won his petition might return to find his family dust and his grandchildren old as he.â€​par 	
 	Ted began to laugh. â€œWouldnâ€™t you know it!â€ he said. â€œIn our world, time runs the same as it does in the Hidden Land. But that didnâ€™t suit us; so we used Shanâ€™s Ring for just the opposite effect, to slow down time at home so we could return a bare instant after we left.â€​par 	â€œWhy so?â€​aid Shan. 
 	â€œTo keep the grown-ups off our backs,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œArt so young, then?â€​par 	â€œNot anymore,â€ said Ruth, with unexpected grimness. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ted, â€œthe bargaining ground of the dragons?â€​par 	â€œI found it not,â€ said Shan. â€œNor, they tel me, did any Red Sorcerer ever lay eyes onâ€™t.â€​par 	There was a brief silence. Ted, looking around, saw that most of the crowding ghosts had dispersed. Andrew stil stood with the King and the five royal children, but their voices were subdued. Ted was cold, and very tired. He pul ed his cloak more tightly around him, and his hand brushed Shanâ€™s brooch. He unpinned it hurriedly and held it out. It blazed like the ocean under a noonday sun. 
 	â€œIs this yours?â€​e said. 
 	â€œIt was,â€ said Shan. In the rich blue light his face was thoughtful. 
 	â€œThen take it back again,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œIâ€™d not thought,â€ said Shan, not taking it, â€œthat it would prove so potent below the earth.â€​par 	â€œYou could use some power around here,â€ said Ruth. 
 	Shan said to Ted, â€œThese things do not fal out by chance.â€ â€œWel , maybe I found it so I could give it to you. You take it.â€​par 	â€œAn I may hold it,â€ said Shan. He took it from Tedâ€™s fingers, and it lay on his smal , wavery hand and did not fal to the ground. 
 	â€œMy thanks to you,â€ said Shan. â€œMay it be long ere I see you again. Or thou,â€​e added, to Randolph. 
 	Ted looked at Randolph, but Randolph only smiled. He looked back at Shan, and for a moment saw through him Randolphâ€™s hand and arm. 
 	â€œMy lord, you look tired,â€​aid Ted to Shan. 
 	â€œThe blood runneth dry,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œWhereâ€™s your dagger?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Shan. â€œYouâ€™l need a whole skin and al the blood thatâ€™s in you. Quickly, have you any questions more?â€​par 	â€œHow did Melanie get hold of your sword?â€​par 	â€œMelanie!â€ said Shan, scrambling to his knees and staring. 
 	â€œShe left it for us to stumble on,â€ said Ted. He added, â€œAnd she left her own for some friends of ours. 
 	Did you know she had one that would do similar work?â€​par 	â€œOf what color?â€​par 	â€œGreen,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Shan slapped his hands down on his knees, a violent motion that made hardly a whisper of sound. â€œOh, Iâ€™m justly served,â€ he said. â€œI should have stayed. I am sorry, that I left this menace to ravage you. My lords and ladies, beware that sword of green. It wil show you your own hearts in such a guise youâ€™l cut them out.â€​par 	He stood up, an agitated, wavering figure fading rapidly into the gray land and the gray sky. 
 	â€œWhereâ€™s the dagger?â€ shouted Ted, leaping up himself. 
 	â€œNo,â€​aid Shan; he was gone. 
 	
 CHAPTER 25

 	LAURA could tel from Fenceâ€™s face that he wished El en had not asked where Matthew was. Patrick seemed to see it too; and as Patrick terrifyingly sometimes did, he took his own advice. 
 	â€œWhat the hel ,â€ said Patrick, walking up to the two tal men and looking from one to the other, â€œdo you think youâ€™re doing?â€​par 	There was a petrifying silence. Laura considered her cousin, in his stained jeans and filthy tennis shoes and his dusty black cloak, and was stricken with admiration and jealousy. She looked at the two identical faces. One of them was grinning; the other wore an expression as of patience come abruptly to an end, like Lauraâ€™s teacher just before he sent somebody to the principal. 
 	The grinning Prospero spoke over Patrickâ€™s head to Fence. â€œYou come careful y upon your hour,â€​e said. 
 	â€œI do not,â€ said Fence. â€œI come abominably late.â€​par 	â€œNot so late as weâ€™d have made you,â€ said the tal man, smiling stil . There was something about the smile that oppressed Laura. 
 	Michaelmas had been leaning in the doorway between the two Prosperos and preserving a perfectly blank expression. This latest remark, however, or perhaps that smile, appeared to stir him to wrath. â€œIf thatâ€™s a threat, my lords,â€​e said, â€œgo make it otherwhere.â€​par 	The smiling Prospero and the frowning one both swung on him. 
 	â€œDoubt you our word?â€​aid the smiling one. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Michaelmas. â€œBut I do doubt your manners. Having sworn to do no harm in Heathwil Library, it wil behoove you not to threaten none. And concerning harmâ€”what have you done with my col eague Prospero?â€​par 	â€œWhy, nothing, save to look upon him in admiration,â€
 	said the frowning man. 
 	Michaelmas made an impatient motion with his hand. 
 	â€œGo in,â€ he said; â€œsit down; and answer the boyâ€™s question.â€​par 	The two men came in. Every cat in the room leapt up, sniffed the air, and curved across the floor to purr at the Prosperos. Michaelmas rol ed his eyes at them, and sat down behind his desk. 
 	The two Prosperos sat where Patrick and El en had been. 
 	Patrick and El en sat on the table. Celia and Chalcedony stood in the doorway. 
 	â€œAnd for the love of mercy,â€ said Michaelmas in a tone of profoundest irritation, â€œdo you, one of you, or both of you, take some form other. And do you not,â€ he added sharply, as the two men turned and smiled at each other, â€œassume some other, horrible form which might deprive our sovereignty of reason, and then say in innocence, I did bid you doâ€™t. Take you,â€ said Michaelmas, breathing hard through his nose, â€œsome harmless and inoffensive form that can speak with us, and leave your frivolings for but five minutes.â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™ve dealt with us before,â€ said the austere Prospero. 
 	â€œAnd to my sorrow,â€​aid Michaelmas. 
 	â€œWizard, have a care,â€ said the smiling one, and stopped smiling. 
 	â€œOh, go to,â€ said Michaelmas. â€œYouâ€™re as slippery as a mess of eels, but you do not break your sworn word.â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said the once-smiling Prospero, â€œbut our memories are as long as time.â€​par 	â€œPeace; make thy change,â€​aid the austere one. 
 	The once-smiling one looked at him, and shrugged; and by what means Laura could not see, by the time his shoulders had leaned back on the cushion again, he was a little dark woman dressed in an infinity of layers of pink gauze. In a voice melodious as a flute, she said, â€œWil this serve?â€​par 	Behind Laura, Chalcedony made a muffled exclamation. 
 	Michaelmas, who appeared to be of a ruddy complexion and who had been growing ruddier in his exasperation, turned stark white, leaned forward, leaned back again with great deliberation, and swal owed hard. â€œIt wil serve,â€
 	he said. â€œBut I say to you now, my memory is long also.â€​par 	â€œSo,â€ said Patrick, insouciantly but with a strained look on his sharp Carrol face, â€œis anybody going to answer my question?â€​par 	â€œWe are come,â€ said the dark woman, â€œto ask it of you, or of some minion of the Hidden Land. Something is amiss there.â€​par 	â€œTook you long enough to notice,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	
 	â€œPatrick,â€​aid Fence, mildly but definitely. He turned his head and addressed the two shape-shifters. â€œWel , great ones, what amiss is this, and how may we mend it?â€​par 	â€œWe look to you to tel us of the first,â€ said the one who stil looked like Prospero. â€œMichaelmas hath given us some clue. Is it true that you have dabbled with Shanâ€™s Ring?â€​par 	â€œIt is,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œThat did awake us from our dreaming,â€ said the dark woman. â€œBut ere our start was oâ€™er, before we could settle again, we did hear something other.â€​par 	â€œA great shearing and clashing of swords,â€ said the man. 
 	â€œThere was a battle in the south,â€​aid Fence. 
 	The dark woman laughed. â€œWe who slept through the ten yearsâ€™ agony of Owlswater, the twenty-five yearsâ€™ tossing of Feren atween Fenceâ€™s Country and thine, to wake at that?â€​par 	Fence was silent. Laura knew what these two had heard. 
 	They had heard Ted and Patrick, practicing with Shanâ€™s and Melanieâ€™s swords in the rose garden. 
 	â€œThere are few sorceries,â€ said the dark woman at last, â€œso potent as Shanâ€™s Ring.â€​par 	â€œNo doubt,â€ said Fence. â€œSeek you the list of thâ€™others in this admirable library, and come to me again when you have a more particular question. Iâ€™d tire the moon with talking, to tel you al our petty deeds since first we wielded Shanâ€™s Ring.â€​par 	The tal man said, â€œHave you the swords of Shan and Melanie?â€​par 	â€œWhat is their fashion?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œLittle one,â€ said the man, in a clam voice infinitely worse than any angry tone could have been, â€œmy patience hath an end.â€​par 	â€œThe swords are smal ,â€​aid the dark woman, laying her hand on the manâ€™s arm. He went on looking at her, as if the sight of Fence would be too much for him, al the time she was talking. She said, â€œSmal , as for a Dwarf, or a child. Their hilts are black, and set with stones, Shanâ€™s with blue, Melanieâ€™s with green. Their blades from time to time do glow, with the colors of their several stones. They send a kind of tingling into the hand that toucheth them. Now, Fence, give us answer.â€​par 	â€œI have a mil iard such,â€ said Fence. â€œHow shal I tel the sword of Melanie from any that gloweth green?â€​par 	â€œHave you,â€ said the tal man, stil looking at his companion, â€œthe swords of Shan and Melanie?â€​par 	â€œIt may be so,â€ said Fence. â€œYou have not told me sufficient that I may mark them.â€​par 	â€œTheyâ€™l take you, an you carry them aright,â€ said the dark woman, â€œalmost as far as Iâ€™d send you, an I could.â€​par 	â€œHave you,â€ said the tal man, turning his cold yel ow eyes on Fence again, and speaking in a deadly monotone, â€œthe swords of Shan and Melanie?â€​par 	And Fence said, â€œYes.â€​par 	â€œThird time pays for al ,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œWe do require,â€ said the tal man, â€œthat you deliver them to us.â€​par 	â€œBy what right?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œNone,â€ said the dark woman, crisply. The tal man turned and glared at her. She said to Fence, â€œâ€™Twil serve if you but promise to employ them no more.â€​par 	â€œI do so promise,â€ said Fence, without hesitation. 
 	He did not even glance at El en or Patrick or Laura, whom he had just condemned to the vagaries of Apsinthion. 
 	â€œFor your little lifetime,â€ said the tal man. â€œA catnap; the space of a snore. Whatâ€™s that to us?â€​par 	â€œAl you may have from so paltry a creature as I am,â€
 	said Fence, looking right back at him. His hands were gripped hard on the carved arms of the chair and his jaw was rigid, but he sustained the look of the tal man, and it was the tal man who suddenly jerked his head around and said to Michaelmas, â€œChoose thy guests better.â€​par 	Whereupon he and the dark woman got up and went out, closing the door behind them with a solid and unfriendly thud. 
 	â€œCould I choose my guests at al , I know whom Iâ€™d un-choose first,â€ said Michaelmas. He wiped his sleeve over his forehead. â€œFence, you harrow me with fear and wonder.â€​par 	â€œThey are not in agreement,â€ said Fence. â€œHad they been so, I do assure you, I had trod far softlier.â€ He stood up, careful y. Laura suspected him of having shaky legs, but he spoke steadily enough. â€œNow,â€ he said. 
 	â€œLetâ€™s find Matthew, and the true Prospero, and ask our riddles, and get us gone.â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™re 
 	better 
 	here,â€ 
 	said 
 	Michaelmas. 
 	
 	â€œOutwith these precincts they are bound by no oath.â€​par 	â€œCan we but travel quickly, theyâ€™l have Chryse and Belaparthalion to deal with,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œâ€™Twere a very great pleasure, Michaelmas, but no profit at al , to bide here.â€​par 	â€œNo pleasure, either, with the pair of them huggermuggering about,â€​aid Michaelmas. 
 	Fence, who had turned for the door, looked around. 
 	â€œWhich of them were those?â€​e said. 
 	â€œNay, I know not. Chalcedony?â€​par 	â€œTheyâ€™re strange to me,â€ said Chalcedony. 
 	â€œDo you think, Michaelmas, that they may be some species other than the usual? There was something in their eyes; and the cruelty that took your daughterâ€™s form is of a different brand than what weâ€™re used to.â€​par 	Laura wondered who Michaelmasâ€™s daughter was, and what had happened to her. 
 	Michaelmas rubbed his forehead again, scowling at the drifts of paper on his desk. â€œIâ€™d thought we had seen them al .â€​par 	â€œI know,â€ said Chalcedony. â€œBut this troubleth me.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Fence, â€œletâ€™s to Prosperoâ€™s chamber, an you wil .â€​par 	Chalcedony and Michaelmas both came, leading the rest of them down the bright-lit hal and the narrow, winding stair and along yet another hal to a closed door. Michaelmas knocked at it. Nobody answered. Michaelmas rattled the handle, and then stood aside for Chalcedony, who took a key from her bunch and unlocked the door. 
 	
 	Prosperoâ€™s 
 	room 
 	was 
 	the 
 	same 
 	size 
 	as
 	Michaelmasâ€™s, but sparser in its furnishings. He had a bed, a table, a chair, a wardrobe, and many shelves crammed, but neatly, with books. If there was a bed in Michaelmasâ€™s room, thought Laura, it was wel buried. 
 	Prosperoâ€™s room was empty, though al its lights blazed and on the table were a half-written sheet and an uncapped bottle of ink. From the smooth bed a white cat blinked at them. 
 	â€œWhere would Matthew seek him next?â€ said Fence to Michaelmas. 
 	Michaelmas looked helpless; Chalcedony said, â€œThe Index Room; and then in the Special Col ection. Iâ€™l go seek them; you stay here should they return.â€​par 	She jingled off down the hal way. Michaelmas walked into the room, and after a moment of hesitation the rest of them fol owed him. There wasnâ€™t real y anywhere to sit, and no ne of them, it appeared, felt comfortable wandering around looking at the books and other possessions of someone who had not invited them. Laura looked at the cat; that was not an invasion of privacy. The cat was large and clean, like the room, and wel brushed. It wore a green col ar with gems in it. Laura walked across the room, and the cat lifted its head. 
 	Gold light flashed off the stones in the col ar, and ran like water over rock, and dimmed and dul ed until she saw a smal bare room lit with cloudy light from one round window. 
 	A young man in a red robe sat on the floor, leaning forward over his crossed legs to write on a large sheet of waxy paper. He looked uncomfortable, but his voice when he spoke was pleased. He said, â€œNever go down to the end of town if you donâ€™t go down with me.â€ Something tapped at the window; Laura looked at it, and saw a flash of red. 
 	El en shook her arm. â€œWake up, Laura, hereâ€™s Matthew and Prospero.â€​par 	The real Prospero looked just as the false one had. Laura received her introduction to him rather absently, and only just remembered to do him a courtesy. 
 	El en shook her arm again, and she gave up. Michaelmas was delivering an admiring account of Fenceâ€™s dealings with the two false Prosperos, for the benefit of the real one and Matthew. They greeted it with blank silence during which Laura sat down on the bed, careful to miss the cat. 
 	Prosperoâ€™s embroidered black robe swam giddily before her eyes, behind a gloss of gray light and redness. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​aid Michaelmas, sharply. 
 	â€œFence, Iâ€™d credited thee with more sense,â€
 	said Matthew, in a tone so unlike him that Laura forgot her vision completely. 
 	â€œWhat do we need those characters for?â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œMatthew?â€ said Fence. â€œI see we do need them. Whatâ€™s the matter? Sit down, man, thouâ€™rt like suet.â€​par 	â€œYon shape-shifters you al so blithely did offend,â€
 	said Matthew, â€œare the Lords of the Dead, come forth from their dominion for the first time since it was laid down. 
 	A fine welcome you gave to them.â€​par 	â€œYou didnâ€™t hear them,â€ said El en. â€œThey had terrible manners and they didnâ€™t care beans about us. They were miffed because weâ€™d woken them up.â€​par 	â€œWe require a boon of them,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	He looked at Fence until Fence sat forward and opened his mouth; then Matthew said suddenly, â€œI cry you mercy; I had done the same had I been here.â€​par 	â€œNo doubt,â€ said Fence. â€œDo you do otherwise when you come to ask our boon.â€​par 	Matthew looked as if he were going to object; Patrick said, â€œHow do you know theyâ€™re the Lords of the Dead?â€​par 	â€œI came upon two of them in the kitchen,â€ said Prospero. 
 	â€œYouâ€™ve seen them before, then?â€​par 	â€œHow does seeing them before help?â€ demanded El en. â€œTheyâ€™re shape-shifters; they can look like anybody.â€​par 	â€œThereâ€™s a little fire in the eyes,â€​aid Prospero. 
 	This kept getting worse. â€œThe man in the stark house had a little fire in his eyes,â€​aura said. 
 	â€œOf what nature?â€​aid Prospero. 
 	â€œRed,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œTriangular, or iâ€™theâ€™shape of a diamond?â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t know,â€​aid Laura, regretful y. 
 	â€œFor future reference,â€ said Patrick, â€œwhich is which?â€​par 	â€œThe triangular flame defineth the Lords of Death.â€​par 	â€œProspero,â€ said Fence. â€œIs the Judge of the Dead among them?â€​par 	â€œI know not,â€ said Prospero. â€œI got no speech of them.â€​par 	â€œWiser than I,â€ said Fence. â€œWel , weâ€™d best get it now. Matthew?â€​par 	Matthew looked around at al of them. â€œSaid the rest of you aught to discomfit them?â€​par 	â€œI asked them what the hel they thought they were doing,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œAught else?â€​par 	The rest of them shook their heads. 
 	â€œWel , then,â€ said Celia from the doorway, â€œPatrick and Fence shal stay here and beguile Master Prospero with the tale of our adventures; for our poor part, weâ€™l seek out these lords and beg their favor.â€​par 	â€œI think not,â€ said Matthew. â€œFence, theyâ€™l not hear me. I am neither a wizard nor a king.â€​par 	â€œI begin to think Iâ€™m neither also,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œThey wil tel you otherwise,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	They looked at each other for some time; and then Fence nodded. â€œCome, then,â€​e said. 
 	El en, Chalcedony, and Celia moved from the door, with an alacrity that Laura found disturbing. She herself went on sitting on the bed, hoping to be forgotten. But Fence looked back at her quite kindly and said, â€œCome, lady; this concerneth thee closely.â€​par 	Laura got up and went out the door in the othersâ€™
 	wake. â€œWel , Mistress Chalcedony,â€ said Fence, as they reached the juncture of the two hal s and headed for the staircase again, â€œwhat ground wilt thou choose for this battle?â€​par 	â€œThe Reading Room,â€ said Chalcedony. â€œAny such company wil think thrice, eâ€™en on the verge of breaking al its oaths, afore â€™twil do damage there.â€​par 	â€œWhat if somebodyâ€™s studying there?â€ said El en. 
 	â€œThen heâ€™l garner a spectacle,â€​aid Fence. 
 	El en caught Lauraâ€™s eye and grinned at her. Laura shook her head and looked away. Celia and Matthew were holding hands again, and carrying on a complex and wordless conversation with their eyes. Laura and El en were accustomed to referring to such behavior, in their parents or in the older kids at school, as â€œmaking goo-goo eyes.â€
 	But there was nothing gooey about this exchange of glances. Laura wished she knew what they were worried about; or perhaps she didnâ€™t. 
 	They went back the way they had come, and turned into the room across the corridor from Michaelmasâ€™s chamber. It was furnished with three large tables in the middle and a series of carrels, exactly as you could find in a modern library, along the wal s. The furniture was heavy and beautiful, and perhaps half the material on the shelves was in the form of scrol s rather than bound books. The polished floor was scattered with intricately worked rugs; the light was warm and golden, not the harsh glow of fluorescents. But in its essentials, it looked like a library. Laura felt better immediately. 
 	In a far corner of the room, somebody in a green robe and a black hat was scribbling furiously. Michaelmas went over and spoke to her quietly. She laughed, and appeared to thank him, and went back to scribbling. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said El en, sitting down sideways at one of the tables. â€œWeâ€™re here. Whoâ€™s going to round them up?â€​par 	â€œWe who know the Library,â€ said Chalcedony; and without further ado, she and Michaelmas made for the door. 
 	El enâ€™s voice arrested them halfway through it. 
 	â€œWait! Can we look at the books?â€​par 	â€œWash your hands first,â€ said Chalcedony. 
 	â€œCelia can show you.â€​nd they were gone. 
 	The five remaining looked soberly at one another. El en did not clamor to be shown where to wash her hands. 
 	Matthew said, â€œI would we knew how thâ€™other party fareth.â€​par 	â€œTheyâ€™l have been to the land of the dead for nothing,â€ said El en. â€œUnless the Lords of the Dead can be two places at once.â€​par 	Matthew smiled a little. â€œNot to my knowledge,â€ he said. 
 	Laura sat down next to El en and leaned back in the chair. 
 	The ceiling of the room was beamed and plastered. The wood was carved, the plaster molded; both were painted. 
 	The wood showed hunting scenes, and people building castles and making brooms and kneading bread and mending a wagon wheel. The plaster was formed into a series of medal ions. Laura found the running fox of High Castle on its blue background; there were also an owl perched in a thornbush, and a mountain hare sitting up on the bank of a stream, and three brindled hounds with their tongues hanging out, each scene stylized and cleverly fitted into the confines of its circle. And there was also a scarlet curve of dragon with, horribly, a unicorn drooping from its toothy mouth. The dead unicorn looked like pictures Laura had seen of antelope being dragged away by the lions that had kil ed them. Its open eyes were picked out in gold paint. 
 	Laura couldnâ€™t look away from them; and suddenly the glitter strengthened and spread. Good, thought Laura, maybe she could figure out what she was supposed to see in the young manâ€™s bare room. But what she saw was Claudia, in the back room of her house, leaning on the diamond-paned glass. She stil wore the checked dress. 
 	Now she raised her hand to the glass, grimaced, and dropped it again. Then she smiled. She looked like somebody who has decided to eat a piece of chocolate cake despite a New Yearâ€™s resolution to lose ten pounds. She went on watching her windows. Laura tried to see what she saw. A stone wal , a shelf of books, a golden globe for a lamp. Meredithâ€™s domain in High Castle? 
 	Heathwil Library? Some place other? 
 	Laura blinked her way back to the Reading Room to find everybody except Fence staring at her. Fence had leaned his head against the high back of his chair and closed his eyes. 
 	â€œI thought you were seeing things again,â€ said El en. 
 	â€œWhat were you seeing back in Michaelmasâ€™s room?â€​par 	Laura told her instead of what she had seen in Prosperoâ€™s room. Urged to tel what she had just seen, she told what she had seen in Michaelmasâ€™s room. She did not want to tel Fence about Claudia, even if he didnâ€™t seem to be paying any attention. Nobody had any comment. The woman at the far end of the room rustled her papers. It grew so quiet that they could hear the scratching of her pen. Laura was sleepy. It must be almost morning. 
 	â€œMatthew?â€ said El en. â€œDo you want us to say anything to the Lords of Death?â€​par 	â€œHeaven love you, not a word,â€ said Matthew. 
 	â€œIndeed, Iâ€™l say naught myself. Celia and Fence have the lighter touch.â€​par 	â€œOh, much thanks,â€​aid Celia. 
 	There was a commotion in the hal outside. Five people came in, al scowling. It was hard to tel what they looked like; they were like sketches, or cartoon drawings, or the artistic efforts of a five-year-old. They made Lauraâ€™s eyes hurt. 
 	Matthew jumped to his feet and bowed; so Laura and El en scrambled out of their chairs and made the best courtesies they could manage, given their clothing and the inadequate warning. Celia stood up more natural y and bowed from the waist. 
 	â€œThe rest come by and by,â€ said one of the newcomers, in a rich contralto Laura would have known again, she thought, in ten years, or fifty. 
 	â€œSit you down, then, and wait in comfort,â€​aid Celia. 
 	The newcomers settled themselves at the end of the table, displacing the party from the Hidden Land. The dim voice in Lauraâ€™s head said, Move down; I want a clean plate. 
 	The newcomers began talking among themselves, in some language Laura did not understand, but recognized. It was that maddening tongue, used in the Secret Countryâ€™s ceremonies, that one felt always just on the edge of understanding. It was less vexing this time because al of the speakers had such breathtakingly beautiful voices. 
 	Wel , thought Laura, that made sense. They had come here to talk, so they had expended their arts on their voices and kept the appearance to a minimum. 
 	She looked at Matthew and Celia, who were standing stiffly at about the middle point of the long table. They, it was clear, could understand the maddening language perfectly, and the lovely tones in which it was spoken were not mitigating in the least their reaction to what was being said. 
 	Fence had opened his eyes and appeared to be listening, but not to be disturbed by what he heard. 
 	The voice in her head said, more clearly, Isâ€™t not possible to understand in another tongue? You will toâ€™t, sir, really. 
 	There was a burst of unintel igible speech in the corridor, and four more indeterminate shapes spil ed into the room, fol owed by Michaelmas. The four sat down next to the first five; Fence got up and marched down to the head of the table; and Celia, El en, Laura, and Michaelmas sat at the foot, separated from the nine strangers by an empty chair or two, and from Fence by an appal ing stretch of polished table. 
 	Al nine went on talking. Fence did not cal them to order. It took them about ten minutes to calm down, during which El en amused herself by drawing cats with a stick of charcoal and some scraps of paper that she found in a drawer of the table, and the voice in Lauraâ€™s head said, The sun was shining on the sea, / Shining with all his might: / He did his very best to make / The billows smooth and bright. 
 	
 	Final y the hubbub died and the shape with the rich contralto voice turned to Fence. â€œYou have a grievance?â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s for you to determine,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œTel your tale,â€​aid a clear, lilting voice. 
 	Fence told it, without adornment, and without explaining who the extra royal children were or where they came from. 
 	â€œFive at one swoop,â€ said the rich voice, consideringly. â€œThis Claudia is bold.â€​par 	Fence grew red; Laura could see that, al the way at the other end of the enormous table. He said nothing. The lilting voice said, â€œBut we are cautious. Five at one swoop, back to the world of light? For what consideration?â€​par 	â€œFor Shanâ€™s Ring,â€​aid Fence. 
 	A babble of almost-sense broke out. Fence sat with his hands folded, his round face blank but rather light. The yel ow light shone on the table, and on the almost-present shapes of the Lords of the Dead. A new voice, deep and resonant, said, â€œThe Riverâ€™s Guardian hath been offered this token already, and hath refused it, on the ground that it was too eagerly given.â€​par 	â€œI,â€ said Fence, with considerable force, â€œgive it not eagerly. We have but this year discovered its purpose and its power; a century of study might, an we were fortunate, show us its uses; a mil ennium of study might show us to avoid its dangers. It is my dear desire to have this thing.â€​par 	There was another babble. 
 	The lilting voice said, â€œYet how wil it profit us?â€​par 	
 	â€œIf you possess it, then none other doth so,â€ said Fence. â€œWherefore you wil have peace from its thunderings.â€​par 	â€œWhat bargain,â€ said the rich voice, apparently not to Fence, â€œmade we with Shan concerning this thing?â€​par 	â€œOh, hel , oh, damnation, oh perdition!â€ breathed El en. 
 	â€œHush,â€​hispered Celia. 
 	â€œWhat did you make up?â€​issed Laura. 
 	Fence looked down the table at them, and they al shut up. 
 	The lilting voice said, â€œThat it be left as an heirloom of his house, and a weapon against Melanie, whom he could not vanquish.â€​par 	â€œOffer us some thing other,â€​aid the rich voice. 
 	â€œWil you take,â€ said Fence, â€œthe swords of Shan and Melanie?â€​par 	Matthew shot bolt upright in his chair, his shocked face flaming. Celia slammed her arm across his chest, and whatever he had been about to say turned into a huffing kind of choke. The mass of light and shadow that was the shape-shifters seemed to drift in his direction. 
 	â€œWe cry you mercy,â€ said Celia, breathlessly; and they al turned back to Fence and broke out in their maddening speech. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s he thinking!â€​hispered Matthew. 
 	â€œI know not,â€ said Celia. â€œDonâ€™t cross him. 
 	Our division is their opportunity.â€​par 	â€œSo is his madness,â€ said Matthew; but then he was silent. 
 	
 	The rich voice said, â€œThat is our dear desire. For each sword, you may retrieve one child.â€​par 	â€œOh, God!â€​reathed El en. 
 	Lauraâ€™s throat hurt her. 
 	â€œMy lords,â€ said Fence, in a grating voice. â€œDo consider one thing other. Edward Fairchild died in June. 
 	Edward Carrol was slain in battle in August. Lady Ruth and Lord Randolph and I did bargain with the Guardian of the River for the life of Edward Fairchild; but we did receive back Edward Carrol .â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s easily mended,â€ said the lilting voice. 
 	â€œDo you give us Edward Carrol , and we shal give you Edward Fairchild. Do you give us the swords, and we shal give you two other children of your choosing. That is three of the five. Are we agreed?â€​par 	Laura cast a stricken glance at Celia and Matthew. They sat like snow statues, as pale as their shirts, their enormous eyes on Fence as if daring him to say a word. Laura looked at him too, in time to see him drop his face into his hands. 
 	He sat that way for what seemed like forever. None of the Lords of the Dead moved or spoke. 
 	When Fence took his hands away, they revealed a face with nothing in it at al . â€œNay,â€ he said. â€œWe are not agreed. Edward Carrol is out of this reckoning. Al five children do we require of you, my lords, or swords you shal have none.â€​par 	â€œAl five is too great a boon,â€​aid the rich voice. 
 	â€œFewer is too smal ,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œWel , then,â€ said the rich voice, â€œwe have come to the end of our speech together.â€​par 	
 	â€œMind you,â€ said a voice that had not spoken in this room before, but that Laura had heard last from the mouth of a false Prospero, â€œshould you at any time wish to change Edward Carrol for Edward Fairchild, that offer stands. Al others we withdraw; should your mind alter, this must be al done again.â€​par 	â€œHold,â€ said the lilting voice. â€œSpeak not so hasty. The payment for Edward Carrol hath not been made.â€​par 	â€œTel Randolph,â€ said El en, very softly, â€œto walk warily.â€​par 	â€œTruly?â€ said Prosperoâ€™s voice. â€œYou may make change and payment at once, an you wil .â€​par 	â€œI thank your gracious presences,â€​aid Fence, dryly. 
 	Their gracious presences, quiet for once, did something very like standing up and walking out of the room. The door shut behind them. Nobody looked at anybody else. 
 	Lauraâ€™s hands hurt. She unclenched them and looked blankly at the red creases in the palms. They were cold and wet. Her heart was trying to hammer its way out of her throat. 
 	She could not settle to any feeling: not relief, because of Fenceâ€™s sorrow, and not sorrow, because of her own relief. They were al safe; and she hated being safe at such a cost. 
 	Final y, she made herself look at Fence. He was staring at the space of polished table between his clasped hands. In the bright, warm silence of the Reading Room, the scholarâ€™s pen scratched busily. Laura wondered if she had even heard. 
 	
 CHAPTER 26

 	MICHAELMAS got up and went after the shape-shifters, saying something about setting some guard over them. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Celia, in a wrung-out voice, â€œwe should be gone from this place.â€​par 	Laura had been listening to this suggestion al evening. 
 	But as Fence stood up without word and held the door open for the rest of them, she realized what it meant. No food; no rest; an uneasy seat on the jouncing horse, riding through the dark and coldâ€”with, quite possibly, a host of practical, humorous, inhuman enemies at their backs. This time El en didnâ€™t smile. 
 	They went without speaking back to Prosperoâ€™s room. The door stood open. Patrick was asleep on Prosperoâ€™s bed, with the cat on his stomach. Al their luggage was piled in a corner, a blot on the roomâ€™s tidiness. Prospero sat at the desk with three leather-bound volumes the size of pattern catalogues at a fabric store laid out before him. He glanced up as they came in, took one look at Fence, and sat back in the chair, his austere, bearded face very grave. 
 	â€œNo profit,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œFence, itâ€™s not thy fault,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	Fence walked over to the desk, and recited to Prospero the course of the bargaining for the lives of the royal children. 
 	â€œIndeed, Fence, I see no fault therein,â€ said Prospero. â€œTheir offers were impossible to be taken up, but those are the most liberal terms Iâ€™ve heard from these lords in a century.â€​par 	â€œOh, aye, but look you,â€​aid Fence, calmly. â€œAn I angered them not, either they had been more liberal yet, did that liberality spring from a lessening of their habit and not from malice; or else they had been so ungenerous, did that liberality spring indeed from malice, that we were teased with no possibilities. Those terms they gave us wil prick our dreams in years to come, so near were they to be accepted.â€​par 	Lauraâ€™s burden of guilt, having this speech laden on top of it, gave way suddenly to an exasperation so pure there was no space for caution in it. â€œOh, for heavenâ€™s sake!â€ she burst out. â€œYouâ€™re as bad as Randolph! You think everything has to be your fault.â€​par 	â€œThat were a pity,â€ Fence said. â€œOne snick-snatching conscience is aplenty for Tedâ€™s court, thinkst thou not so?â€​par 	â€œFence, leave it be for an hour!â€ said Celia. 
 	â€œSort out the blame at leisure, do you have any again; but now let us be gone.â€​par 	â€œNo, peace a moment,â€ said Fence. He laid one hand on Prosperoâ€™s open book. â€œWhat work have you done here?â€​par 	Prospero sat forward. â€œI have been nibbling at the shel of that hard nut, Apsinthion,â€ he said. â€œLook you on this page.â€​par 	Fence sat down in the other chair and began to read. 
 	Laura tried to read the page upside down, but it looked as if even right way up it would be very difficult. It resembled the homework she dreamed of not doing, a handwritten list of words and definitions. El en walked around behind Fence, peered over his shoulder, said, â€œWhat hideous spel ing,â€​nd wandered away. 
 	After a moment Fence said, â€œThereâ€™s one new to me.â€​par 	â€œAye,â€ said Prospero. â€œWormwood: the abode of a dragon.â€​par 	â€œWel !â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œBut are dragons shape-shifters?â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œNo; thereâ€™s the rub,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Laura, â€œApsinthion could have been the name of the house. But we didnâ€™t see a dragon.â€​par 	â€œThe answer to the third riddle I have also,â€ said Prospero. â€œThe Outside Powers.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said El en, â€œitâ€™d take an Outside Power to keep a dragon.â€​par 	â€œWhat about the first question?â€​aid Laura. 
 	Prospero shook his splendid wizardâ€™s head. 
 	â€œEven the riddle is new to me,â€ he said. â€œIf you wil but sleep here for the waning of the night, Iâ€™l search this matter for you.â€​par 	â€œMatthew?â€​aid Fence. 
 	Matthew, who had been moving restlessly in and out of the doorway, slowly shook his head. â€œBetter we were gone,â€ he said. â€œIf they reach an accord, they wil be after us straight.â€​par 	â€œThey cannot be after you herein,â€​aid Prospero. 
 	â€œWe cannot linger herein; we have an errand in the north,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	Prospero sighed. â€œDo you return this way, then,â€ he said, â€œand I shal have news for you. Eat something before you go.â€​par 	After a brief discussion Matthew agreed that they could eat something. Prospero went off to arrange for it. Matthew took his place and he and Fence read in the large books. 
 	Patrick woke up and demanded an account of the bargaining. Al he said to El enâ€™s recitation was, â€œThey sound crazy to me. You canâ€™t bargain with crazy people.â€​par 	â€œThey arenâ€™t people,â€ said El en, â€œso maybe they arenâ€™t crazy.â€​par 	â€œThey might as wel be,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	The three of them sat on Prosperoâ€™s bed in a gloomy silence. Laura looked from the gems on the white catâ€™s col ar to the golden globes of the lamps to the glowing caves of the coals in the fireplace. These last melted and brightened instantly. She saw a vast formal garden under a hot, bright sky. Around it reared high white wal s, not the grayish white of High Castle, but bril iant, smooth, and blinding as snow in the sunshine. Two figures in the gardenâ€™s center crossed swords. One of them was tal and angular, with a wild mop of black hair, and moved with a reckless abandon al too familiar. Laura clenched her hands together. The other was tow-headed, yes, and moved more cautiously. But he was almost as tal as Randolph, and he had a moustache. 
 	Randolph and Andrew,  fighting in a rose garden; but not the one at High Castle. This was not what she had hoped to see; she was looking for the young man in the bare room who quoted â€œJames James Morrison Morrison.â€ This one she might have to do something about. 
 	â€œFence?â€​he said. â€œWould they know some way here to counteract the pestilent spel -song?â€​par 	â€œOh, I know the way,â€ said Matthew. â€œOne must but catch it in a fistful of fire. What we know not is the tune that maketh the fire-letters.â€​par 	Laura sat very stil . She remembered the tree in her dream, burning at the tune she played; and the young man, writing on a large sheet of waxy paper, quoting the same song. â€œI bet I know,â€​he said. 
 	Matthew came and sat on the bed. â€œTel me,â€ he said. 
 	He looked extremely thoughtful when Laura had explained her reasoning. Patrick, however, just rol ed his eyes. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the matter with you?â€ said El en. 
 	â€œDo you have a better idea?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Patrick, â€œI havenâ€™t. Sheâ€™s probably right. But God damn it, she shouldnâ€™t be. 
 	Itâ€™s shoddy reasoning. Itâ€™s al intuitive. Itâ€™s not logical. Itâ€™s like poetry,â€ said Patrick, as if that were the worst thing he could think of. 
 	â€œIt transcends logic, nitwit,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œIt may,â€ said Patrick, â€œbut you two sure donâ€™t. You havenâ€™t even gotten that far.â€​par 	â€œLetâ€™s try it,â€​aid Laura to Matthew. 
 	They went over and rummaged in the pile of luggage. 
 	Lauraâ€™s pack was almost too cold to touch. She wrapped an extra shirt around her hand and cautiously lifted out the flute. Matthew said, â€œProspero, may we have the use of paper?â€​par 	Prospero gave him one huge waxy sheet of it, and pen and ink. Celia had built the fire into a towering forest of flames. Matthew moved to sit on the hearth, and dipped the pen into the ink bottle. Laura trailed after him and sat on the floor. She couldnâ€™t play the flute through a shirt. She unwound the cloth and picked up the flute. It felt very heavy, but was no colder than the pack. Perhaps it would give her chilblains. She had always wondered what they were. 
 	Fence and Prospero had abandoned their books to watch; but when Laura looked inquiringly at Fence, he only smiled. 
 	â€œNow, Laura. If the whole of the song burned a tree,â€
 	said Matthew, picking up the pen, â€œone line thereof shal serve us wel . Play the tune of the line the young man did speak, until I cease to write.â€​par 	Laura did. Matthew wrote, covering both sides of the large sheet densely in minute characters. Final y he lifted the pen and nodded; he, or something, had timed his last line to end with hers. Laura laid the flute across her knees and caught her breath. 
 	Matthew flattened the paper and dropped it into the fire. It did not curl or discolor, but the lines of ink ran together, into the center, swirled like dirty water going down a drain, and then ran up, not down, and spun up the chimney. The fire sank back to a bed of orange. Al the wood Celia had fed it was consumed already. Matthew fished out the paper and returned it to Prospero. 
 	If they were lucky, they had caught â€œGood King Wenceslasâ€ in a fistful of fire. â€œShould I play â€˜hat if a Dayâ€™?â€​aid Laura. 
 	Celia and Matthew looked inquiringly at each other. 
 	â€œSomething stronger,â€ said Celia. â€œâ€˜nd From the Sword.â€™ â€​par 	â€œLaura?â€​aid Matthew. 
 	â€œSay the words,â€​aid Laura, â€œand Iâ€™l see.â€​par 	Matthew said precisely, â€œ â€˜nd from the sword, Lord, save thy heart by my might and power, and keep thy heart, my darling dear, from dogs that would devour. And from the Dragonâ€™s mouth that would thee al in sunder shiver, and from the horns of Unicorns, Lord, safely you deliver.â€™ â€​par 	â€œWhose might and power?â€ said Celia. â€œIf Laura playeth those words, Matthew, to whose might and power dost thou commend Randolph?â€​par 	â€œIt needs must be someoneâ€™s,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œThis is a message, of my wife,â€ said Matthew; â€œnot a prophecy nor an abjuration.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™ve got it,â€ said Laura, listening to the back of her mind. She was both pleased and terrified that Randolph should be commended to her might and power; she knew, perhaps more clearly than anybody, what might happen to him. She would think very hard about the danger of Andrew and the warning of the unicorn, and perhaps these things would come to Randolph when he heard the message. 
 	â€œPlay, then,â€​aid Matthew. 
 	Laura played it through, holding up careful y her thoughts of Andrew and the unicorn. She liked the tune. She wondered if she would remember it, or any of them, if she ever got an ordinary flute into her hands. This one grew colder and colder as she played, as it had not when she played the phrase from â€œJames James Morrison Morrisonâ€ for Matthew. She could hardly hold it for the last few notes; and dropped it grateful y. 
 	Prospero came back with their food, which was mugs of soup and an assortment of dumplings stuffed with everything from broccoli to raisins. They ate it; and thanked him; and packed up; and left Heathwil Library. At Prosperoâ€™s suggestion, they left without their horses, through a tunnel intended to supply the library in case of siege. Patrick, who was offensively cheerful and observant after his nap, was delighted with this means of egress; but the adults were too tired or preoccupied to answer his questions, and El en and Laura were too tired to be interested. 
 	Â 
 	Dawn found them in a very wild country, rocky and dusted with snow and ful of evergreens. The sky was a piercing blue and there was no wind. 
 	Just before midday, when Laura had determined that she was going to die, and it was only a matter of whether she announced this fact first or simply fel in a piteous heap, they came to a long, low stone building with a brick chimney and one window. Nobody asked what it was doing there; they simply went inside. Laura only realized that she had gone to sleep by waking up again. It was sunset. They went on their way again. 
 	They walked al night, under a blazing of stars like sugar thickly sprinkled on a cake, and in the spaces between their sticky clusters a sky so black it looked to Laura like a pit she could fal into. The land they traveled over seemed to her a tiny, made thing, a clutter of gravel held together with ice and the little feathery sticks of the evergreens. She kept drowsing off and then jerking awake, because it was not sleep she would fal into, but the endless empty sky. After the third time this happened, she was seriously considering tickling Patrick as a diversion, when El en said from beside them, â€œCanâ€™t we sing?â€​par 	Celia laughed. â€œHow please both a dragon and a unicorn?â€​par 	â€œI was thinking of pleasing myself,â€ said El en. 
 	â€œSomething long and rousing.â€​par 	â€œKipling,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œOh, wel thought!â€​aid El en, and promptly began to sing. 
 	Â 
 	 â€œNow Tomlinson gave up the ghost at his house in 
 	 Berkley Square,  
 	 And a Spirit came to his bedside and gripped him by the 
 	 hairâ€”  
 	 A Spirit gripped him by the hair and carried him far away,  
 	 Till he heard as the roar of a rain-fed ford the roar of the 
 	 Milky Way.â€​
 	Â 
 	Patrick had joined in before the end of the first line. Laura knew she couldnâ€™t sing, but in this cold wilderness she didnâ€™t care. She came in on the second line. Among the three of them they made a creditable chorus, she thought, for volume if not for sweetness; but they did not get much further. The clear and tuneful voices of Patrick and El en, and even Lauraâ€™s fainter and more wavery pipe, struck echoes like slivers of ice from al the naked rocks, and those echoes struck more; every word they sang burst into a shower of others, not only in the freezing air but in the warm depths of her mind. 
 	 Now let us sport us while we may. I gave what other women gave that stepped out of their clothes. Alas, poor ghost, as a moat defensive to a house, against the envy of less happier lands, another damned, thick, square book. 
 	 Be thou a spirit of health or goblin damned. Where griping griefs the heart would wound And doleful dumps the mind oppress, There music with her silver sound With speed is wont to send redress. 
 	Those last few words, spoken honestly with flesh and breath, fal ing natural y on the real air that Laura moved in, left behind them a frozen silence. The wind had died; the party from the Hidden Land stood in a perfect stil ness, their soundless breath congealing in the dark air, and looked at the speaker. 
 	Laura recognized the unicorn, by its gold eyes and by something in the timbre of its voice. It was Chryse. She seemed much larger; and, as with the other unicorn they had spoken to, although she did not shine herself, there was light around her. But her breath, too, made clouds in the frosty air, and from the wicked horn with its spiral of violet there hung a dingy tendril of dead vine. 
 	â€œThat,â€ said Chryse in her ringing voice, â€œis the oddest music that ever I was summonedâ€”â€ She broke off. Laura had never heard a unicorn do such a thing. 
 	
 	â€œFence,â€ said Chryse. â€œWhat dost thou here among the barren rocks?â€​par 	â€œSeeking your gracious presence, lady,â€ said Fence. Laura, accustomed to the way in which he had spoken to the other unicorns and to the Lords of the Dead, with that threadbare courtesy just covering his wariness, his disdain, his distrust, actual y looked away from the unicorn to stare at Fence. He meant it. This one he respected. 
 	â€œMy brothers sent me word thou wast at Heathwil Library,â€​aid Chryse. 
 	â€œHeathwil Library,â€ said Fence, â€œis an abode of monsters. The Lords of the Dead do take their ease behind its wal s.â€​par 	Chryse made an abrupt and discontinuous sound, like a cat walking on a keyboard. There was an uneasy silence. 
 	â€œThe strangest summons,â€ said Chryse at last, â€œand the strangest news. What are these others with thee? Wil you come and take what ease I can afford you?â€​par 	â€œLady,â€ said Fence, â€œfor this relief much thanks.â€​par 	They fol owed Chryse on a winding path through ice and rocks, and down into a val ey that held a little wood of pine trees. It was much warmer here. They trudged up to a thick hedge of some evergreen, and shrugged off their packs. 
 	Matthew stacked them under the hedge, and Laura said to El en, â€œWhat kind of hedge is that?â€​par 	â€œYew,â€​aid El en. 
 	Fence joined them and said quietly, â€œBe somewhat scanter of thy knowledge in converse with Chryse. Do not lie, but do not speak more than you must.â€​par 	
 	â€œIâ€™m sure Chryse knows what kind of a hedge it is,â€​aid El en, rather testily. 
 	â€œIt wil like her an thou answerest thus pertly,â€ said Fence, unruffled, â€œbut beware. Sheâ€™l lead thee on to those delights, and thou wilt speak more than thou shouldst. 
 	Thou mayst strew dangerous conjectures in il -breeding minds.â€​par 	â€œI thank you for your good counsel,â€ said El en, and did him a courtesy. 
 	â€œOh, go your ways,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Matthew and Celia joined them. Fence said, tilting his head and looking from her to Matthew and back again, â€œLook the two of you to my weaknesses.â€​par 	He walked away, and they al fol owed him, to a wide clearing where a pale light as of the moon behind clouds told them Chryse was waiting. She invited them to sit down, and Laura at least was very glad to do so. The pine needles were thick on the ground and very soft. Laura thought belatedly that it was perhaps impolite to sit while Chryse stood, and also that they would al have stiff necks from looking up at her. But once they were al seated in a half-circleâ€”Matthew, Celia, Fence, Laura, El en, and Patrickâ€”Chryse lay down neatly, as the unicorn they had hunted last summer had done, her forelegs stretched out before her like a catâ€™s and her plumy tail spread fanlike on the scattered needles. She did not look smug; she looked expectant. 
 	â€œYou are welcome,â€ she said. â€œMake me known, Fence, to your companions.â€​par 	â€œLord Matthew,â€ said Fence, â€œKingâ€™s Counselor of the Hidden Land.â€​par 	
 	Chryse looked down her long white horseâ€™s nose at Matthew, and said, â€œThey speak wel of thee in Heathwil Library.â€​par 	â€œCelia,â€ said Fence, while Matthew seemed to be struggling with a reply, â€œOnetime Queenâ€™s Counselor, and the Kingâ€™s Counselor and musician.â€​par 	â€œAnd Belaparthalion speaks wel of thy music,â€ said Chryse. 
 	Celia smiled; Fence said, â€œLaura.â€​par 	â€œWel met,â€ said Chryse. If she noticed the sudden absence of title or designation, she didnâ€™t mention it. 
 	Laura was not sure she was relieved. Chryse said, â€œThou hast played the flute of Cedric and found the unicorn in winter, bereft of the cardinal.â€​par 	â€œBut, lady,â€ said Laura, startled into speech, â€œitâ€™s October.â€​par 	â€œIs it?â€​aid Chryse. 
 	â€œEl en,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Chryse said, â€œThy spirit liketh my sister.â€​par 	â€œHers liked me too,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œAnd Patrick,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Chryse said, â€œThink onâ€™t.â€​par 	Laura, bewildered, looked at Patrick, who was scowling, but not in the manner of somebody who has been presented with a senseless remark. 
 	â€œWel met,â€ said Chryse again. â€œNow. What meaneth this embassy?â€​par 	Fence cleared his throat, pushed his hood back from his face, and spoke of the action of the Dragon King that had led to the war in August. He told of the doubts Andrew had sown among the Kingâ€™s Council; he told of the death of the King, which he termed â€œdoubtfulâ€ and managed to imply it might have been in some way engineered by the Dragon King. He described the battle. He told of the death of Conrad, the only experienced general the Hidden Land had. He told of the death of the new King, and the bargain made with the Judge of the Dead for his release. Chryse, who after al had been there, interrupted him at this point. 
 	â€œThat was il done,â€ she said. â€œFor we did not receive Edward.â€​par 	Fence looked as if he wondered how she knew. He said, â€œI myself, lady, am loath to lose Randolph. But that is by the way, save as an instance of the farflung trouble the meddlings of the Dragon King have caused us, who have troubled him nothing. There is no honor in him; no statecraft wil bind him to be quiet. Wherefore we come to give you a gift, and to ask in return the gift of your intervention. 
 	Celia?â€​par 	Celia reached under her cloak and drew out a wrapped bundle. She spun the long windings of cloth from it as if she were unrol ing a carpet, and the swords of Shan and Melanie tumbled to the ground and lay there shining in pale blue and ghostly green. The stones on their hilts winked like stars between clouds. They sparkled in green and blue; but it was gold and red that Laura saw in them, a huge glow of gold light and a red, sinuous form coiled in the middle of it like a worm in an apple. She blinked, and the sparkles steadied, and the glimpse was gone. 
 	Chryse stood up. â€œGlory and trumpets,â€ she said. 
 	â€œI wil have these swords. For my part, an you give them up, Iâ€™l read the Dragon King a prohibition shal stay him to the shape of a polecat until al these deeds are but a song the minstrels cannot trace toâ€™s makers. But my part is not al . Weâ€™l find Belaparthalion by and by. Now, look you; I wil have also more knowledge than thou, Fence, didst tel my sister, touching these swords and their history. Is there aught thou wouldst have of me in return for that tale?â€​par 	â€œFence!â€​aid El en. â€œThe three riddles.â€​par 	â€œWhat!â€ said Chryse, in alert and joyful tones. 
 	â€œRiddles al Heathwil cannot read?â€​par 	â€œDangerous conjectures,â€ said Patrick, leaning across Laura and addressing El en in a disgusted voice, â€œin il -breeding minds.â€​par 	â€œThy tongue breeds il er,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Chryse, in a voice that for the first time held no shadow of laughter. â€œThy dealings with us were ever circumspect.â€​par 	â€œHow, lady,â€ said Fence, in a pleading tone laced lightly with irritation, â€œshould they be otherwise?â€​par 	â€œDost thou know,â€ said Chryse, stil soberly, â€œwhat timeâ€™s gone by since any trusted us?â€​par 	â€œThat same thatâ€™s passed,â€ said Fence, as if he were painstakingly explaining long division to a slow pupil, â€œsince you did warrant it.â€​par 	â€œAn you try us not,â€ said Chryse, with the humor back in her tuneful voice, â€œhow may you know do we warrant it or do we not?â€​par 	â€œIs this not wonderful?â€ said Fence. He sounded rather desperate; but there was a touch of irony in his voice also. â€œYou have pleased it so, to punish me with this, and this with me, that I must be your scourge and minister.â€​par 	â€œThou art a wizard,â€​aid Chryse. 
 	Nobody moved or spoke; Lauraâ€™s nose itched, and she would not have scratched it for anything. The two swords on the ground, like stained glass through which the sun is shining, cast little motes of blue and green in al directions, blemishing Chryseâ€™s white coat and making the clearing look like a scene under water. Laura squeezed her eyes shut briefly, and in the dazzle of red and yel ow afterimages she saw again the golden glow and the red snaky thing within it. These things were in a tower room, but not any in High Castle. The golden glow was a great globe; the red snaky thing in it was a dragon, al whiskered and tendriled and shot with streaks of black. It was looking at her out of one black eye with a pupil as red as a garnet. 
 	Nothing in any of her visions had looked at her before. To lie in cold obstruction and to rot,  said a crackling voice, like no voice she had ever heard in the back of her head. The sight snapped out suddenly, as if the dragon and not she had ended it. Laura opened her mouth, remembered Fenceâ€™s abjurations to El en, and shut it again. 
 	The silence stretched on a little longer. Then Fence said, â€œEl en. Ask thy riddles.â€​par 	â€œWhat beast is it,â€ said El en, â€œthe unicorns pursue each summer?â€​par 	Wel , thought Laura, Chryse should certainly know the answer to that one. 
 	â€œThe dragon,â€​aid Chryse. 
 	â€œAnd before what beast doth winter flee?â€​par 	
 	â€œThe dragon,â€​aid Chryse. 
 	â€œAnd what beast maketh that which putteth the words to the fluteâ€™s song?â€​par 	There was another silence. â€œThe dragon,â€ said Chryse, and chuckled richly, like three low notes of a pipe organ. 
 	â€œThe dragon?â€​aid El en. â€œNotâ€”ow!â€​par 	Patrick had leaned over and hit her in the arm; but it was Fence who said, â€œHold your tongue.â€​par 	â€œHeathwil thinketh otherwise?â€​aid Chryse. 
 	â€œSend to them, lady, and ask,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œWel ,â€​aid Chryse. â€œTel your tale.â€​par 	Fence told it, appealing occasional y to Matthew or Celia or Laura, and once to Patrick, but never to El en, for details. 
 	The sun came up before he had finished. Chryse twitched her tail from time to time, somewhat as a cat might do and somewhat as a horse might. She made no comment when he had finished. 
 	â€œThat,â€ said Patrick, with relish, â€œis a packet of news and no mistake.â€​par 	Chryse made an obscure hooting sound. Laura wasnâ€™t sure what it meant. Chryse said, â€œFear not this bargain, Fence. Iâ€™l cal Belaparthalion.â€ She stood up, with considerably more grace than any of the rest of them, scrambling hastily to their feet at Fenceâ€™s urgent gesture, could manage. Then she put her long white head back, like a donkey about to bray, and made sounds far more melodious. 
 	In Lauraâ€™s mind the words marched along with the music. â€œWake: the silver dusk returning / Up the beach of darkness brims, / And the ship of sunrise burning /
 	Strands upon the eastern rims. / Wake: the vaulted shadow shatters, / Trampled to the floor it spanned, / And the tent of night in tatters / Straws the sky-pavilioned land.â€​par 	Which was very impressive, but Belaparthalion did not come. Laura was afraid that she knew why. â€œWhen you know these things,â€ the man in red had said, â€œthen what manner of thing I am you wil know also.â€ He had not said, I am the thing that is the answer. If he was indeed a dragon-keeper, she had just seen the dragon he kept. That tower room had not looked as if it were in the bare, blocky, modern house she and Ted had visited; but it might be. She might have seen Belaparthalion; but she might have seen some other dragon, in the present or the future or the past. 
 	The others were mil ing around, shaking the blood back into their feet, yawning, and scanning the sky. Laura looked up too, but there were only two crows. Chryse stood stil , her head cocked as if she were listening for the beat of scaly wings. 
 	Fence was watching Chryse. The irrational dread of Lauraâ€™s dream clutched at her stomach. There was something that Fence must not find out; that was what that dream had told her. Fence had intimated to them al there were things Chryse ought not to find out, that they should say as little on any subject as they could get away with. Both these circumstances and al the natural inclinations of her character told Laura to keep her mouth shut. But she thought also of her talk with the unicorns, long ago it seemed now, when they had hinted to her in their cheerful way what might be the consequences of a failure to shout abroad every vision she had. 
 	
 	â€œChryse,â€ said Laura, not caring if it was rude. 
 	â€œWhat color is Belaparthalion?â€​par 	â€œRed, curdled with black,â€​aid Chryse, readily. 
 	â€œSomebodyâ€™s got him,â€ said Laura. â€œI saw him. Heâ€™s in a big, glowing golden globe.â€ She paused to disentangle her tongue, thinking, with a saving lightness, say that five times fast. â€œIn a high room somewhere; a house, I think, not a castle. At least, the wal s arenâ€™t stone. And he says, â€˜o lie in cold obstruction and to rot.â€™â€​par 	â€œDoes he so?â€ said Chryse, slowly, and with a very unpleasant intonation. â€œMelanieâ€™s elder brother said so also.â€​par 	â€œChryse,â€ said Fence, very gently, â€œhave a care.â€​par 	He and Chryse looked at each other, and Celia and Matthew looked at the two of them. 
 	â€œI know where to seek him,â€ said Chryse, suddenly. 
 	She took four strides for the edge of the clearing, and paused. â€œI can carry one,â€​he said. 
 	â€œLaura?â€​aid Fence. â€œ â€™Twas thy vision.â€​par 	It seemed impossible to refuse. Wel , Laura thought, it hadnâ€™t kil ed her last time. She took a step toward Chryse, and considered again. The worst thing about being a coward was the risk that you would choose the wrong moment to stop being one. 
 	â€œIâ€™l go if you think I should,â€ she said to Fence. 
 	â€œBut El en would like to go; and you, or Matthew, or Celia, might be a lot more use.â€​par 	
 	â€œBut not Patrick,â€ said Patrick; his voice was unperturbed, but he had chosen to say something. 
 	â€œSend Patrick!â€ said El en. â€œHeâ€™s the one who needs it.â€​par 	â€œPatrick is incorrigible,â€ said Matthew. â€œIâ€™l go, Fence.â€​par 	â€œLady?â€​aid Fence. 
 	And Chryse, the omnipresent glint of humor magnified and shining like the sun in every syl able, said, â€œPatrick likes me wel . Let him come and be witness.â€​par 	
 CHAPTER 27

 	IF Claudia is Melanie,â€ said Randolph, rubbing the thumb and finger of one hand under his eyes, until they met at the bridge of his nose, which he pinched vigorously. He dropped his hand, looking no better for the exercise. 
 	Ruth had lost track of the number of times it had been said. She sat, with Randolph and Ted, back on the floor of Claudiaâ€™s diamond-paned sun porch, because it was cleaner there, and warmer, and because they hoped the windows might stil show them something useful. Andrew was ostensibly exploring the rest of the house, also in search of something useful. He had not ranted anymore; he had not even asked quietly for some explanation. Perhaps the King and the dead children had told him something. Ruth was glad to be out of his presence. She thought his docility in the face of such discoveries boded no good. 
 	Randolph had not finished his sentence. Ruth decided to sum up for him. â€œSheâ€™s about five hundred years old,â€ she said, â€œinfinitely accomplished in Sorcery, marvelous wise in the ways of the unicorns, and bears a grudge against the Hidden Land and everyone in it that you never have explained properly but that we wil grant to be weighty. What else?â€​par 	â€œSheâ€™s 
 	not 
 	Andrewâ€™s 
 	sister,â€ 
 	said
 	Randolph. 
 	â€œUnless Andrewâ€™s not Andrew,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œHe might real y have been the vil ain al along,â€ said Ruth, cheered. Then she scowled. â€œBut I doubt it. He rings true, if you know what I mean. There was always something sleek and odd about Claudia, but Andrew I believed in.â€​par 	â€œYes, so did I.â€ Ted pushed the thick hair out of his eyes. â€œSo Andrewâ€™s just one more victim.â€​par 	â€œWel , he might stil be a spy for the Dragon King.â€​par 	â€œOkay, leave him on the suspected list. Back to Claudia. Randolph, if sheâ€™s so old and has such great sorcerous knowledge, whyâ€™d she have to apprentice herself to Fence and Meredith?â€​par 	â€œHer knowledge is of the Red School, now dispersed,â€ said Randolph. â€œEach school hath its secrets that the others know not. One of the dearest goals of Heathwil Library is to abolish this secrecy, but they have not achieved it yet. Also, there surfaceth from time to time new knowledge; easier to pry it from some teacher of the art than to seek it out laboriously oneself.â€​par 	Ruth looked at him. There was an edge of malice and disil usion in his voice that you had to expect, but that disturbed her just the same. Randolph and Claudia had kept company for almost a year; he had presumably been fond of her, and he was no doubt thinking now of al she had pried out of him: not only the knowledge, but the trust, the time, the confidences which remembering would scald the heart once he knew to whom he had so blithely given them. Damn Claudia, thought Ruth. 
 	â€œWhy did she lock Belaparthalion up in a golden globe?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œHeâ€™s a protector of the Hidden Land, with Chryse, against the Outside Powers, and what other capricious forces may measure a ladder â€™gainst our bulwarks.â€​par 	â€œBut she didnâ€™t lock Chryse up somewhere?â€
 	said Ruth. 
 	â€œWho can say?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œWel , she hadnâ€™t, as of our bargaining for Tedâ€™s life.â€​par 	â€œMelanie is an old enemy of the unicorns,â€ said Randolph. â€œAnd the unicorn is cannier than the dragon.â€​par 	â€œ Thatâ€™s whatâ€™s been bothering me!â€
 	exclaimed Ruth, smacking her hand down on Claudiaâ€™s hardwood floor. â€œI thought Melanie was dead. I thought Belaparthalion kil ed her because she broke her word to Shan.â€​par 	â€œOh, he did burn her house and she inside,â€ said Randolph. â€œSo the story goeth in some quarters that he did kil her. But look you, Melanieâ€™s original crime was that she did conspire in the death of a unicorn, and that meaneth immortality. Sheâ€™l die when she wil s it, and the Lords of the Dead wil have her.â€​par 	â€œOh, splendid, â€​aid Ruth. â€œWhyâ€”â€​par 	Randolph held up a long hand, smiling. The smile did not reach his eyes with their dark circles underneath, nor his voice. â€œAsk not me,â€ he said. â€œThese answers wil come only from Claudia.â€​par 	â€œHow do you propose to find her?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œWhy should you want to find her?â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œWhy should she want to answer any questions from us, and how could we make her?â€​par 	
 	â€œFor the first,â€ said Randolph, stil smiling, and in a lighter voice, â€œthese events tend al to a purpose; and when it is accomplished, she wil find us. For the second, I give less than the scrapings of an indifferent banquet for what she wants; and for the third, thâ€™event wil show us.â€​par 	â€œYouâ€™re just giving in?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œShe wil not come out,â€ said Randolph. â€œWe must needs walk in where we may find her.â€​par 	â€œIf the purpose is to kil us al ,â€ said Ted, hol owly, â€œwonâ€™t the opportunity for questions come too late?â€​par 	â€œIf that is the purpose, aye. But I think â€™tis not so. 
 	Sheâ€™l want a fate that hath some relish inâ€™t.â€​par 	He sounded as if he were talking about a recipe, not his own fate. â€œHow can you sit there and say things like that?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Randolph looked at her. She could not tel if he was trying to frame his answer properly, or only to decide whether to answer at al . She remembered what Fence had said to Ted, in response to a similar question: â€œWhat is the matter with you? We wil do our best in the battle, and live or die as it fal s to us.â€​par 	But Randolph, when he answered her, did not quite say that. â€œI do not hold my life,â€ he said, â€œat a pinâ€™s fee. As for yours, my dear children, I hold them something higher. But that, see you not, shal serve very wel .â€​par 	Ruth 
 	had 
 	some 
 	trouble 
 	catching 
 	her 
 	breath. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t you dare sacrifice yourself for us,â€ she said at last, in rising tones. â€œWeâ€™re not your dear children! And what the hel good do you think our lives would be to us withoutâ€”â€ She stopped, horrified. Ted was staring at her. Randolph merely looked resigned; he either had not understood or didnâ€™t care. 
 	â€œIsnâ€™t this a little premature?â€ said Ted, also rather breathlessly. â€œLetâ€™s just wait â€™til we get there.â€​par 	â€œGet where? â€ snapped Ruth, venting her anxiety and al the hideousness of her new discovery on her cousinâ€™s innocent head, and feeling a fresh flood of irritation because she could not keep herself from doing it. 
 	â€œWe have an embassy to accomplish,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œAndrew doesnâ€™t look in any case to accomplish anything,â€ said Ruth. â€œLady Ruth must have been aâ€”â€ She stopped for the third time. â€œBoil my brains!â€ she said. â€œBoil them and mash them and serve them up for turnips, for itâ€™s damned wel al theyâ€™re good for!â€​par 	Randolph actual y laughed, which was perhaps more alarming than everything else. â€œDonâ€™t trouble yourself,â€​e said. â€œSheâ€™s naught to me; but do you school yourself in Andrewâ€™s hearing.â€​par 	â€œWas she ever anything to you?â€ asked Ruth; and wished she had stopped for a fourth time, before she ever started the question. 
 	Randolph said, â€œWhat was she to me in thy game?â€​par 	Ruth was so relieved to be spared any direct consequences of her own question that she answered at once. â€œNot a great deal,â€ she said. â€œWe didnâ€™t pay much attention to that part of it. The romances were just flourishes that we put in because theyâ€™re expected in stories.â€​par 	â€œI thought,â€ said Ted, â€œthat Lord Randolph had a soft spot for Lady Ruth that he didnâ€™t indulge because he thought it would be better if she married Edward.â€​par 	â€œAs wel he did not,â€ said Randolph, apparently exclusively to Ted, â€œfor she was not what she seemed.â€​par 	 That was an uncomfortable remark, thought Ruth, no matter how you interpreted it. â€œIf this discussion isnâ€™t going to get us anywhere,â€ she said, â€œwhy donâ€™t we go see how Andrewâ€™s doing?â€​par 	Ted and Randolph got up promptly. They al went upstairs, past the three landings and their little square windows, each having a border in red stained glass alternating with clear and with an occasional clump of grapes or wildflowers, to the wide hal way lined with open doors on the fourth floor. 
 	In this house, those open doors led to rooms ful of books. 
 	In the largest of these, they found Andrew, leaning on the window frame as if he would have liked to climb out and fal four stories. Randolph thumped the woodwork and Andrew turned around. 
 	â€œWhat have you found?â€ said Ted. Andrew gestured at the table, which was covered with coarse paper densely written over. â€œMelanieâ€™s journals,â€​e said. 
 	Ruth noticed that he did not cal her Claudia. Maybe he was good at facing facts, once you had put them where he would have to notice them or fal over them. 
 	â€œHave you read anything useful?â€​aid Ted. 
 	He walked into the room; Ruth and Randolph fol owed. 
 	
 	Randolph sat down on a red velvet sofa with its arms carved like dragonâ€™s heads. Ruth wished she could see a good honest lion, or even a griffin, for a change. She looked at the sofa again, and perched herself on a ladder probably intended for reaching the upper bookshelves. Andrew was stil leaning in the window, which was convenient, thought Ruth, because it meant his face was in shadow. 
 	Randolph pul ed out the grapefruit-like object they had used to light their way to this house, and said to it, â€œStrike a light or light a lantern.â€ It lit up, and the gray, neglected room was suddenly warm and pleasant, as if the writer had just stepped out for a cup of tea. 
 	Ruth, startled into a burst of laughter, completed the quotation. â€œSomething I have hold of has no head!â€​par 	â€œOh, no,â€ said Ted, laughing too. â€œI hope that hasnâ€™t happened here.â€​par 	â€œIt had a happy ending,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œMore of your fictions?â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œHow do you know about that?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œShe hath writ much of them, and of you,â€ said Andrew. â€œIt seems that you are ignorant and presumptuous, but not evil.â€​par 	â€œBut the fictions?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThe idea did give Melanie some little trouble,â€ said Andrew. â€œBut she did gnaw at the nut til it did crack for her.â€​par 	Ruth marveled at how dryly he spoke. He sounded like Patrick expounding materialism; except that Patrick loved materialism, and Andrew must hate what he was saying. But he had come to understand it in the few hours he had been in this room. And after that display in the land of the dead, you could not accuse him of having no feelings. You had to admire him. 
 	He said, â€œThis is the way of things. Both your fictions, and al our sorceries, have their origins in the same impulses: the desire to make things; the lie told not to scape consequences, but as its own art. Now in your country, these impulses do grow to fictions; but in ours, mark you, they do grow to sorcery.â€​ndrew made a sound that was probably supposed to be a chuckle. â€œWe know our wizards young, by the greatness of their falsehoods. Wherein we who cal them liars only have our excuse.â€​par 	â€œThat seems very odd to me,â€ said Ruth, taking refuge from her thoughts in this theoretical discussion. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t children play games of make-believe? And how do you ever teach them anything, if everything you make up has to come true?â€​par 	â€œIt has not so,â€ said Andrew. â€œThe games of children trouble no one; they may have the strength, but they have not the skil . As indeed the five of you had not the skil , though Melanie saith, you had the strength of five Shans amongst you. You troubled her sleep for ten long years fore she did see that you were not within the boundaries of the world.â€​par 	â€œAnd Melanie, I suppose, had the skil ,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œWait a moment,â€ said Ruth. â€œI stil donâ€™t understand. Does everybody who pretends as a child grow up to be a wizard?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Andrew. â€œSome cease to make believe; some make little tales; but al the great ones do turn to wizardry. Al our great tales are true.â€​par 	
 	â€œWizards made them happen by making them up?â€
 	said Ruth. A voice in her mind that was not Lady Ruthâ€™s said to her, Poetry makes nothing happen. 
 	â€œWizards do make them happen by living them,â€
 	said Andrew. â€œAnd do write them down afterward. 
 	Alsoâ€”â€ He hesitated, and said, â€œI do not wel understand this. Melanie did believe that your play-makers, your poets, did make some events to happen, long ago; but that in the end the Outside Powers did appoint the unicorns guardians, that not every tale should burst in and jostle with every other. And she did believe that the unicorns do suggest the tales to the minds of wizards and plain folk here, who do then choose them, or not, as they wil . And what Melanie did was to take from them their means of choosing.â€​par 	â€œAnd how do we come into al this?â€ asked Ruth, with a sinking stomach. 
 	â€œI do not wel understand that either,â€ said Andrew. 
 	He looked, furthermore, as if he didnâ€™t want to. But he went doggedly on. â€œThink on this. In the natural way of things, tales made by thy poets do present themselves herein; the unicorns do choose or banish them; any with an ear to hear may choose or banish them fromâ€™s own life. 
 	But Melanie did turn al these matters upsodown; she did present the history of the Hidden Land to your several minds; and you did choose or banish, and add your own embel ishment, which did in the ordinary way return to us, to choose or banish as we did wish, according to our several natures, our inclinations, and the keenness of our inward ears.â€​par 	â€œJesus!â€​aid Ted. 
 	
 	â€œDonâ€™t swear,â€ said Ruth. â€œAl right, I guess Iâ€™l accept that for now. But why did she do it?â€​par 	â€œI have said before,â€ said Randolph from the depths of the sofa. â€œWe can but ask her.â€​par 	â€œCan but ask is easily said,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œIâ€™m glad somebody here has some sense,â€
 	said Ruth, frowning at Randolphâ€™s long form sunk in the red cushions. With his coloring, and more especial y with the spectacular lack of it that had afflicted him since the King died, he looked better in red than in blue. 
 	â€œThereâ€™s sense,â€ said Randolph, without rancor, â€œand thereâ€™s authority.â€​par 	â€œWhich, in this matter,â€ said Andrew, pushing himself away from the window, â€œis stil mine. Weâ€™ve tarried enough. The court of the Dragon King awaiteth us.â€​par 	â€œItâ€™l be dark in an hour,â€ said Ruth. Randolph had closed his eyes, as if to show that, whoeverâ€™s authority Andrew thought he was chal enging, it wasnâ€™t his. His lashes were longer than hers, blast him. She turned quickly to Andrew, who didnâ€™t look very healthy either. 
 	â€œWhy donâ€™t we get some rest and have an early start in the morning?â€​par 	There was a difficult silence. Then, â€œPractical as ever,â€ said Andrew, with no particular expression; and walked out of the room. 
 	Ruth waited for his footsteps on the bare boards to die away. Then she sat down on the floor. â€œWhew!â€ she said. 
 	â€œThat,â€ said Randolph, â€œwas the triumph of sense oâ€™er pride. Do you give him the credit forâ€™t, an he chide in the morning.â€​par 	â€œI wil so,â€ said Ruth. She leaned her head against the arm of the sofa and closed her eyes. â€œIs anybody hungry?â€​par 	â€œThe first rule of erratic travel,â€ said Randolph, drowsily, â€œis this: eat when you may.â€​par 	Ruth stood up. â€œWel , come on, then,â€ she said to his recumbent form. â€œOr shal we come and drop it into your mouth?â€​par 	â€œI thank you,â€ said Randolph, sitting up hastily and looking as if he had managed to make himself dizzy, â€œnot with our rations.â€​par 	â€œWe could find some nice worms,â€​aid Ruth, tartly. 
 	Ted was staring at her. She said, â€œLetâ€™s to the oatcake, then,â€ bolted precipitately out of the room, and dived into the first open door she saw. She heard the rest of them, a few moments later, clatter downstairs. This room was the double of the one she and Ted and Randolph had had their conference in, back in the Secret Country. Ruth sat down in one of the carved chairs, on a gold cushion, and pressed her fists to her eyes. 
 	What was the matter with her? No; she knew that. But why did she have to act this way about it? Ruth the contained and careful, whose father cal ed her Elinor after the character in Sense and Sensibility who embodied the first of those traits. Ruth thought she would like to die. â€œOh, you would not,â€ she said to herself. â€œThink of where youâ€™d end up. Wel , at least you couldnâ€™t make a fool of yourself down there. My God, Iâ€™ve got to travel with those people for another week. I canâ€™t stand it.â€
 	 Men have died from time to time,  said the voice, and worms have eaten them; but not for love. 
 	â€œWho asked you!â€​el ed Ruth. 
 	She jumped to her feet and paced furiously around the red and gold rag rug, trying not to think, trying to think of something else. The odious voice said musical y, Sing we for love and idleness, / Naught else is worth the having. /
 	 Though I have been in many a land, / There is naught else in living. 
 	â€œIrresponsible hedonist,â€​aid Ruth, breathlessly. 
 	The voice continued unperturbed. And I would rather have my sweet, / Though rose-leaves die of grieving, / Than do high deeds in Hungary / To pass all menâ€™s believing. 
 	It had drowned the sound of footsteps on the bare wooden floor of the hal . Ruth heard only the first step in the room itself, before the newcomer trod on the carpet and stood stil . She flung herself around. It was Ted. Ruth was enormously 
 	relieved, 
 	and 
 	even 
 	more 
 	enormously
 	disappointed. 
 	â€œRuthie?â€​aid Ted. â€œWhatâ€™s the matter?â€​par 	â€œI,â€ said Ruth, between her teeth, â€œam a jerk and an idiot.â€​par 	â€œWhat?â€​par 	â€œEverybody is a jerk and an idiot at sixteen,â€ Ruth explained to him. â€œI expected it. I figured I could confine it to a diary, or writing bad poetry. My God, how does anybody survive to be twenty?â€​par 	â€œSlow down,â€​aid Ted, painstakingly. â€œHave you remembered something vital, or what?â€​par 	â€œNo,â€ said Ruth, wildly. â€œIâ€™ve forgotten something basic. Iâ€™m too young for this. I donâ€™t want this to happen. My God, â€ said Ruth, taking Ted by his wool-clad shoulders and shaking him, â€œno wonder teenage girls are pregnant al over the place.â€​par 	Tedâ€™s face arrested her. He put both his hands, which were exceedingly cold, over hers, and said, â€œSay it again. Slowly.â€​par 	â€œNo, itâ€™s okay,â€ said Ruth. â€œOr at least, it isnâ€™t, butâ€”forget al that. Never mind.â€​par 	â€œOkay, fine,â€ said Ted. â€œCome on down to dinner.â€​par 	â€œOh, no,â€​aid Ruth, retreating from him. â€œIâ€™m not going down there.â€​par 	â€œWhat in the hel is the matter?â€​par 	â€œIf you tel anybody Iâ€™l kil you.â€​par 	â€œOn my honor,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Ruth looked at him. 
 	â€œAs crowned King of the Hidden Land, may any pain you care to name come upon me sevenfold if ever I reveal this secret without your express permission what the bloody hell is wrong, Ruth? â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m in love with Randolph.â€​par 	Tedâ€™s jaw dropped. Then he looked as if he were going to laugh, and Ruth prepared to hit him. Then a reflective look came over his face; and then he looked at her as if he were real y seeing her, and said, â€œThatâ€™s bad. Iâ€™m sorry.â€​par 	â€œHow would you know?â€​napped Ruth, ungrateful y. 
 	
 	â€œRemember I told you Edward was in love with Lady Ruth?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s monstrous, â€ said Ruth. â€œHow can anybody stand it?â€​par 	â€œWel , it had its moments,â€ said Ted; his straightforward blue gaze altered momentarily, and became disconcerting. Then he rubbed his eyes and said, â€œOr at least, it would have if Iâ€™d been Edward.â€​par 	â€œIt doesnâ€™t have any God damn moments at al ,â€
 	said Ruth. 
 	Ted looked at her thoughtful y. â€œI know whatâ€™s the matter with you,â€​e said. 
 	â€œOh yeah? Wel , please enlighten me.â€​par 	â€œI didnâ€™t know love made people sarcastic.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m sorry. What is it thatâ€™s the matter with me?â€​par 	â€œRemember right after we got here, when we were trying to figure out what was happening, and Patrick came up with al his theories about mass telepathic hal ucinations?â€​par 	â€œI try very hard to forget it,â€ said Ruth, despite herself, â€œbut go on.â€​par 	â€œAnd you told Patrick he was crazy, and he said, al right, you could explain it, then. And you said you didnâ€™t want to explain it; you wanted to know what to do about it.â€​par 	â€œWel ?â€​par 	â€œWel , you want to know what to do about being in love with Randolph. And you donâ€™t know; and I donâ€™t know.â€​par 	
 	â€œI donâ€™t want to do anything about it,â€ said Ruth. 
 	â€œFirst love is a mistake; you just have to get over it. 
 	Nobody as idiotic as I am could possibly make a decision like that and get it right. I refuse. I donâ€™t want to do anything about it. But I keep doing things about it. I keep saying stupid things. Did you hear me in there? That was flirting.  That was despicable.  â€​par 	â€œDo you want not to be in love with him?â€​par 	â€œOf course Iâ€”shit,â€ said Ruth, for the second time in her life; and said it again, three times. The voice said implacably, Let me not to the marriage of true minds /
 	 Admit impediments. 
 	â€œI thought so,â€ said Ted. â€œNow come on down to dinner.â€​par 	â€œAre you crazy?â€​par 	â€œYou canâ€™t stay up here. Ruthie, look. Randolph probably didnâ€™t even notice. Heâ€™s fal ing asleep on his feet.â€​par 	â€œThis,â€ said Ruth, after a pause to examine her feelings, â€œis abominable. Am I relieved that he didnâ€™t notice? No.â€​par 	â€œHeâ€™s going to notice, if you donâ€™t come downstairs,â€ said Ted, â€œand that wil be worse. Just keep your mouth shut. Iâ€™l kick you if I think youâ€™re going to say something stupid.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s a splendid idea,â€ said Ruth. â€œIâ€™l have two broken ankles before we get out of the house in the morning.â€​par 	But she fol owed him downstairs. 
 	
 	Â 
 	Ruth did not have any broken ankles when they got out of the house in the morning. Ted had not had to kick her at al , because she had not said a word. He began to wish heâ€™d promised to kick her for sulking too; but she wasnâ€™t real y sulking: she just looked glazed. Andrew, on the other hand, appeared to be sulking. Randolph was so tired that nothing else showed. Ted thought he looked as if he had given a great deal more blood than the token three drops. Perhaps in some sense he had. 
 	They had eaten their supper, such as it was, at teatime, and gone to bed at suppertime, so they were able to make such an early start that even Andrew didnâ€™t complain. 
 	There was a line of red on the western horizon; the morning star glared at them like the beacon of a lighthouse; the huddled mountains were dark. It was chil y. 
 	Randolph took the lead, without consulting anybody. Ted was so sleepy that it was not until the sun had risen and transformed the fantastic landscape of dawn into something more ordinary that he realized how far they had come. The mountains were gone. They were in a hil y country pocked with little lakes, riding on a good road under a sky fil ed with birds. There was a tower on almost every hil , and the rol ing country was crossed like a chessboard with the lumpy white lines of drystone wal s. It was a much homier and pleasanter-looking place than the Hidden Land; but something about it made Ted nervous. 
 	He persuaded the mare to move up next to Ruthâ€™s horse. â€œWhatâ€™s wrong with this place?â€​e said. 
 	Ruth looked at him out of the corner of her eye, her wild hair blowing. â€œThereâ€™s something paranoid about those towers.â€​par 	â€œAt least nobodyâ€™s shooting arrows out of them,â€​par 	said Ted. 
 	Not long after, they overtook another party traveling in the same direction, a party cumbered with wagons, whose outriders, their plain cloaks abandoned in the warm morning, could clearly be seen to be wearing tunics appliquÃ©c)d with the running fox of High Castle. 
 	Stephen, Dittany, Jerome, Julian; the four they had left behind when they went to brave the Gray Lake. Ted had completely forgotten about them. What prior arrangements, what arcane communications, what good planning or timing had brought about this rendezvous, he neither knew nor cared. The remote voice that was not Edwardâ€™s said, Why, what a king is this! 
 	And that, of course, was fair. He ought to care. Ted smiled at the four of them and let the chatter of reunion divide around him and flow on behind. Not only did he not care, but nobody had consulted him. Randolph, of course, had known al along that he was not the true heir; although for the beginning of the journey he had treated him as a proper king-in-training. Andrew had never had a high opinion of Edward, and now knew that Ted had not even Edwardâ€™s claim to authority. This was a bad precedent; as was the fact that Ted didnâ€™t want to think about it. 
 	The reassembled embassy to the Dragon King rode on down the good, broad road. Ted made himself think about it. If the Lords of the Dead had been doing their jobs, instead of gal ivanting about nobody knew where, Edward might even now be restored to his rightful place. Ted would be able to drop back and be a piece of baggage. He didnâ€™t like that thought as much as he would have expected. 
 	Nor did he like at al the thought of, sometime today, or tomorrow, or when they arrived at the house of the Dragon King and began their work, asserting what authority he had. 
 	It had probably not occurred to Andrew yet, among al the shocks recently administered to him, that he had in sober fact sworn Edward Carrol an oath that must be honored. 
 	Ted did not relish reminding him of it; but Tedâ€™s oath too would have to be kept: to deal lightly in the exercise of his privileges and straitly in the fulfil ment of his obligations; to reward valor with honor, service with service, oath-breaking with vengeance. 
 	Al right, thought Ted. Al right. But not just yet. 
 	They reached the dwel ing of the Dragon King just before sunset. It sat in the middle of a flat sheet of water. The water was a blinding gold on the right-hand side where the departing sun laid a path of light across, and dark green on the other. The castle was not the gray-white of High Castleâ€™s alternating wal s, but a smooth, pure, unnatural white. And it was enormous. It was probably, thought Ted, smal er than High Castle. But High Castle was a hodgepodge, and only its inmost structure had been seriously intended as a fortress. This castle had been built al of a piece. Where High Castle rambled, this one was perfectly symmetrical. It had an eight-sided curtain wal that bristled with towers, each matched by its fel ow on the opposite side. There were four drum towers, each with its own smal turret towers sprouting from it; two massive D-shaped towers; dusky blue slate roofs capping the outer towers and sunk behind the crenel ations of the inner ones. 
 	Ted could not begin, from this distance and in the flat red light of sunset, to tel how big it was. 
 	Edward said, It is sixty feet to the top of the towers, and twenty-seven to the top of the outer wall, but forty to the top of the inner. A hundred archers could hold this place against any force thou shalt name for longer than thou or I have lived. 
 	Ted recognized the enthusiasm of a genuine obsession. 
 	Thanks, he said inwardly. For the first time, he respected the Dragon King, and feared him, instead of taking on trust Fence 
 	and 
 	Randolphâ€™sâ€”and 
 	the
 	gameâ€™sâ€”assessment. Then he said, Edward? Is that you? And Edward, for the first time, answered him and said, Aye. 
 	How comes this communion of thought? asked Ted. Ask Melanie, when you meet her,  said Edward. 
 	Andrewâ€™s voice cal ing, â€œEdward!â€ startled Ted and sent Edward back to wherever he had come from. 
 	Ted rode forward and joined Andrew. 
 	â€œHereâ€™s a party to ask our business,â€ said Andrew. â€œâ€™Twere best I spoke with them, but you must be near at hand.â€​par 	â€œAs you wil ,â€​aid Ted. 
 	As it turned out, he did not have to say anything, though he did sustain a number of alert and curious glances; not from the herald himself, who confined his attention to Andrew, but from both the soldiers and the horses that made up the heraldâ€™s escort. The herald chal enged them courteously enough, and on being informed that King Edward of the Hidden Land had ridden forth for the sole purpose of showering his brother monarch the Dragon King with diverse rich presents, and to consult with him touching the future of their several states, the herald of the Dragon King invited them to slake their weariness and hunger, and have audience of the Dragon King the fol owing morning. 
 	After an impressive progress through several layers of fortifications, past a number of very grim-looking guards, during al of which time Edward poured into Tedâ€™s ears a hundred details of the castleâ€™s structure and defenses, they were relieved of their horses and guided across the soft grass of the inner bailey to the left-hand D-shaped tower. They trailed, al eight of them, bedraggled, behind the gorgeously dressed herald, through a sort of storeroom smel ing strongly of cheese and smoked meat, up a narrow winding stair, and into a large room lit by a good fire. 
 	The herald said something gracious; Andrew answered him properly; the herald departed, closing behind him the heavy door to the staircase. Ted sat down on his bedrol . 
 	The dragging tiredness was stil with him. Randolph looked beat too; he was leaning on the doorpost with his eyes closed. Ruth sat down on the four-poster bed. It was Andrew who found a taper, lit it from the fire, and walked from sconce to sconce, setting the fat red candles to burn. 
 	It was a beautiful room. The wal s were plastered and painted with deep, clear colors; hunting scenes, mostly, and landscapes. The arch of the window was fil ed with stone tracery. The floor was tiled in blue and rust. So was the fireplace. Ted began to feel that perhaps High Castle was a little rustic, a little haphazard, a little neglected. 
 	â€œNow,â€ said Andrew, blowing out his taper, replacing it, and sitting down in one of the chairs by the fire, â€œletâ€™s have it clear how weâ€™l conduct this embassy.â€​par 	
 	Ruth stood up. Randolph pushed himself away from the door and walked to the center of the room. He looked down at Ted, and then at the empty chair. 
 	â€œYours,â€​aid Ted. 
 	Randolph sat down across from Andrew and said, â€œWe made al clear in council. What would you now?â€​par 	â€œIn the light of al the knowledge I have gained, by your most gracious provision,â€ said Andrew, â€œstands it not upon us to alter the terms of this embassy?â€​par 	â€œIn what regard?â€ said Randolph. Ted saw that he was perturbed, but did not intend to waste his energy, or perhaps give Andrew any satisfaction, by raising his voice. 
 	â€œIn several,â€ said Andrew. â€œFirst, neither the true King nor a suitable Regent of the Hidden Land is present in this party.â€​par 	Ruth made an abrupt movement; Ted looked at her, and their crossed glances said to each other, here it comes. 
 	Andrewâ€™s eyes were bright on Randolph. Randolph only leaned his head back in the luxurious chair and said, â€œNeither imputation is fair.â€​par 	â€œLook you,â€ said Andrew, closing his hands on the arms of his chair. â€œI have promised King Wil iam to hold my tongue, and by that word wil I abide. But I have not promised to sit idle while such as you do finish the wreck of my country.â€​par 	â€œTed,â€ said Randolph, stil quietly, â€œhath sworn the oath of kingship.â€ Andrew let his breath out scornful y and brought his fists down on his knees. â€œAnd you,â€
 	said Randolph, in a stronger voice, â€œdid swear to him, in his own name that is in truth Edward, truth and faith would you bear unto him, against al manner of folk.â€​par 	â€œWhat,â€ said Andrew, and his voice was now quieter than Randolphâ€™s, â€œshal my word be more to me, my lord counselor, than was yours to you?â€​par 	Ruth jumped to her feet and plunged across the room; Ted reached up and grabbed hard at her skirt, and she came down on her knees beside him and was silent. Ted heard a dog barking in the courtyard, and a bucket being lowered down a wel , and, faintly, the lapping of lake water against the outer wal s. 
 	â€œIf it be not more to you than that,â€ said Randolph, â€œby what right do you assume the power of this embassy?â€​par 	â€œWhat would you have altered, Andrew?â€ said Ruth, so placidly that Ted stared at her. 
 	â€œI would alter the whole tune of this approach,â€ said Andrew. â€œLet our note be not chastisement, but true al iance.â€​par 	â€œShanâ€™s mercy, against what?â€ said Randolph, furiously, jerking his head up and coming half out of his chair. â€œEâ€™en granting we might trust this adder to bite some other breast than ours, what neighbor doth threaten us save this alone? Against what scatheless state doth Dragon King spout mischief, save ours? Hateth he the Outer Isles? Do the Cavernous Domains trouble his sleep? 
 	Doth he agitate him what danger awaiteth in the Dubious Hil s? What double-directed malice is there, to unite us?â€​par 	â€œMelanieâ€™s,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	Randolph fel back into the chair as if somebody had pushed him, clutched his head in both hands, and began to laugh. Andrew sat stony-faced, waiting for him to stop. Ted, since nobody else seemed likely to enlighten him, looked at Ruth and discovered that she, too, was laughing. 
 	â€œAndrew,â€ said Randolph, gasping. â€œMy lord. 
 	That is excel ently wel reasoned, with every fact that lards it false as hemp nettle to the ropemaker. Melanie did serve the Dragon King in her youth; over the continuance of that service did she fal out so fatal y with Shan. Why should she quit him now, or he believe her aught but his good friend?â€​par 	â€œMagic may be true,â€​aid Andrew, â€œand wizards yet be false.â€​par 	Randolph pushed his hand back over his hair and said, â€œAndrew. You cannot unravel these matters in the space of a night, or of a year. Keep this embassy in its intended form. If later it seems good to you that we and the Dragon King make common cause â€™gainst Melanie, then make your case with true tales, and it shal be heard by whateâ€™er King we have.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s a pretty speech,â€ said Andrew, â€œbut how if there be no time? She hath her agents in every corner of our councils; sheâ€™s kil ed our royal children and our King; within a year, shal not this canker swal ow us?â€​par 	â€œThis canker wil swal ow us tomorrow an you represent us to the Dragon King as Melanieâ€™s enemies.â€​par 	â€œOr as her victims?â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œWeâ€™re not her victims save we make us so,â€
 	said Randolph. 
 	â€œWhat!â€ said Andrew. â€œThe blame so ready to hand, and youâ€™l fling it not at her? Your deed was not her doing; you were not helpless in your own despite?â€​par 	â€œAndrew,â€ said Ted, desperately, â€œby your oath I do abjure you, abide by the agreed terms of this embassy and admit no other matter to it.â€​par 	â€œI hear you,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	That was not an acquiescence. Ted took a deep breath, and the door opened. A fresh-faced girl in a black dress said, â€œMy lords and ladies, you are bid to supper.â€​par 	
 CHAPTER 28

 	THE unicorn was not made like a horse. The coat of the unicorn was not like the coat of a horse, or of a goat. The smel of the unicorn was not like the smel of a horse, or of a goat. So much for appearances, thought Patrick, his hands clenched in a mane hardly more substantial than a cobweb, and his knees trying to grip a body that slid aside from him as a cat does when it prefers not to be picked up. 
 	Nor did a unicorn proceed, foot placed in front of foot, as a horse might go over the ground. He could not feel or hear its hooves hit anything. He felt a great wind in his face; he saw before him a gray mist and on either side a blurring of colors, as if somebody had made a chalk drawing of a forest in autumn and then swept the side of his hand carelessly across it. 
 	The wind stopped; the unicorn stood stil . Patrick had been straining his eyes for just this moment; but he learned no more from the motionâ€™s cessation than he had from its inception. One moment he saw blurred colors, and the next everything was sharp, crisp, and ordinary. They were by the Wel of the White Witch, facing uphil to where the Secret House rose untidily out of the trees. 
 	Patrick slid to the ground, saying, â€œWhat next?â€​par 	â€œI may not come under a roof,â€​aid Chryse. 
 	Patrick looked at it. He might have known. â€œWhat part of the roof do you want me to come under,â€ he said, â€œand what should I do when I get there?â€​par 	â€œGo up into the smal er tower,â€ said Chryse, â€œthe which you may do by keeping always to the left. Consider the globe that you find there. If it be smal , you may bring it out; if it be too large, you must speak to it, naming Belaparthalion.â€​par 	â€œI always did think,â€ said Patrick, â€œthat the heroes in fairy tales must feel extremely stupid. I guess Iâ€™l get to find out.â€ He bowed to the unicorn, because being rude to them got you nowhere, and walked up the hil to the house. 
 	The globe in the tower room was much too large to bring out. Its unhealthy gray bulge fil ed the room; Patrick wondered if it would burst the wal s when it grew larger stil ; or just expand into some other dimension; or just stop, the way things happened here. He leaned on the wal , because his legs were tired from the climb, and said, â€œBelaparthalion.â€​par 	There was no reply. Patrick did not feel stupid. He felt apprehensive. It was clear to him, through what sense he could not have said, that there was somebody else in this room. He said again, â€œBelaparthalion,â€ and then, since he appeared to be in a fairy tale and it was best to use what rules you could, he said it a third time. 
 	â€œWho goes there?â€ said a raspy voice, with a background like static. 
 	â€œPatrick Carrol ,â€ said Patrick, â€œtemporary prince of the Hidden Land.â€​par 	The middle point of the globe turned from gray to red; the point swel ed to a circle; the circle turned slowly and became a sphere; the sphere grew larger, and suddenly reassembled itself into a curved, red, reptilian shape, whiskered and tendriled, with a long head like a col ieâ€™s, and pointed ears, and a gaping mouth ful of carnivorous teeth. There were too many incisors, thought Patrick. What did it eat that it had evolved so many of them; and how did it keep them from shredding its mouth? He thought of the sabertoothed tiger, and shrugged. 
 	The creature said, â€œWhat do you here?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m just the errand-boy,â€ said Patrick. 
 	â€œChryse waits below, but wil not come under a roof. She said that if your globe were smal enough I should carry it out, and that otherwise I should speak to you. I donâ€™t suppose you could shrink it?â€​par 	â€œI am very wel where I am,â€ said the creature. It might or might not, he supposed, be a dragon; but it certainly thought it was cal ed Belaparthalion. 
 	â€œChryse doesnâ€™t think you are,â€​e said. 
 	â€œWhat wisheth Chryse?â€​par 	â€œShe wants you to come and help her seal a bargain for the good of the Hidden Land.â€​par 	â€œWhat bargain?â€​par 	â€œThat in return for the swords of Shan and Melanie, you two prevent the Dragon King from bothering the Hidden Land. Theyâ€™re tired of scurrying around to their borders to repel invaders.â€​par 	â€œOho,â€ said Belaparthalion, in an altered voice. 
 	â€œSits the wind in that quarter? The swords of Shan and Melanie? Both?â€​par 	â€œI wouldnâ€™t know, myself,â€ said Patrick, â€œbut Fence and Randolph think so, and Chryse seemed satisfied.â€​par 	
 	â€œI pray you,â€ said Belaparthalion, â€œbreak me this crystal.â€ Patrickâ€™s stomach lurched. The last time he had broken a crystal had been very unpleasant. Besides, Chryse had not told him to break it, only to speak to its occupant. Between Chryse and Belaparthalion, Patrick did not know where he would put his money. Three things might destroy the Secret Country: the Border Magic, the Crystal of Earth, the Whim of the Dragon. This was probably a dragon; and with a dragon, how did you know what was whim and what was reasonable? If you did destroy the Secret Country, exactly what were you risking, whom were you hurting? How did you judge such a deed? Decision without data, thought Patrick. Thatâ€™s the curse of this place. 
 	â€œWith what should I break it, my lord?â€​e said. 
 	â€œYour hand sufficeth, an you have no sword,â€ said Belaparthalion. 
 	Patrick looked doubtful y at his medium-sized, square-knuckled hand, with the writing-bump on the second finger, and the grime under the nails. â€œIf my hand wil suffice from the outside,â€ he said, â€œwhy wonâ€™t your teeth suffice from inside?â€​par 	â€œBecause,â€ said Belaparthalion, in a tone of enormous amusement, â€œthe crystal was made to keep dragons in, and not the children of men out.â€​par 	â€œDidnâ€™t the people who made it think that the children of men might come along at an inopportune moment?â€​par 	â€œInopportune for whom?â€ said Belaparthalion. 
 	â€œLook you, the breaking of this crystal, from within or from without, doth destroy the image you see within it. How should the maker of the crystal think that any trapped within might choose such destruction?â€​par 	Oh, brother, thought Patrick. â€œIs this a whim of yours?â€​e said. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Belaparthalion. â€œA sacrifice, an you wil , but not a whim.â€​par 	Patrick chewed over this for a while, and gave up. 
 	â€œWel , look,â€ he said. â€œIf I destroy the image of you I see, what is going to be left?â€​par 	â€œBreak the crystal,â€ said Belaparthalion, in the precise tone of somebody initiating a knock-knock joke, â€œand find out.â€​par 	Chryse had told him to talk to it. This was what happened when you talked to it. 
 	Patrick lifted his hand and smashed it down hard into the gray light. It gave before him like cloth, not glass, but with a tremendous shattering sound. A crystal ine wheel of bright spray spun through the air. There was a crack of thunder, a blast of hot air, and a tremendous flash of colorless light against which Patrick shut his eyes. When he opened them, every surface in the room sparkled with splinters. On the wooden table where the globe had rested sat a man. He was not very tal ; he had black hair and green eyes; he looked like Fence and Randolph. He wore a red robe and red boots. There were no shards of glass on him. 
 	â€œGreetings,â€ said Patrick, brushing cautiously at his hair. The splinters, that looked so sharp, felt like threads and scraps of cloth, and drifted easily down from his combing hands. â€œAre you cal ed Apsinthion?â€​par 	â€œSometimes,â€ said the man in red. His voice held stil the faint echo of laughter, but his face was grim. 
 	
 	When they came out of the house and walked down the hil to where Chryse was placidly cropping the wildflowers around the Wel , Patrick found out why. Chryse suddenly flung up her head, laid her ears back, and like a string quartet badly out of tune, said, â€œWhat judgment would step from that to this? Could you on that fair mountain leave to feed, and batten on this moor?â€​par 	This did not make a great deal of sense to Patrick, but the scorn and horror in Chryseâ€™s voice were plain to anybody. 
 	â€œThat 
 	fair 
 	mountain 
 	was 
 	a 
 	prison,â€ 
 	said
 	Belaparthalion, â€œwherefrom this moor, howsoever damp and displeasing to thee, hath been a refuge.â€​par 	â€œA refuge,â€ said Chryse, â€œthat wil come down on your head at the first breath of wind. Is this your duty? Is this the manner you preserve this fair smal kingdom from the hawks of song?â€ It lowered its head, and the early sunlight flashed off that horn as if it had been a mirror. 
 	â€œThis fair smal kingdom shal do wel enough,â€ said Belaparthalion, â€œwhen Shanâ€™s and Melanieâ€™s swords are raised in its defense.â€ Patrick noticed that he did not come close to Chryse. 
 	â€œThose swords,â€ said Chryse, â€œare for safekeeping, not for use.â€​par 	â€œThose swords, dear cousin,â€ said Belaparthalion, â€œare for translation, not for battle. I am old in craft, Chryse, and what I have lost in the dragon-form wil return to me a thousandfold in these two swords.â€​par 	â€œExcuse me,â€ said Patrick, keeping between him and them what would have been a safe distance if the only threat they could offer had been physical. â€œShouldnâ€™t we be getting back?â€​par 	Chryse turned on him, its head stil dangerously lowered. 
 	â€œThou,â€​t said, â€œhast much to answer for.â€​par 	â€œI did,â€​aid Patrick, â€œwhat you told me.â€​par 	â€œWhen did the children of men ever so?â€ said Chryse; but it lifted its head again. There was a long pause. 
 	The wind blew softly in the long grass. Patrick shook the rest of the shards of Belaparthalionâ€™s crystal from his clothing. 
 	â€œWel ,â€ said Chryse; and that same note of laughter was in its voice now also. â€œCousin: wil you ride on my back?â€​par 	Belaparthalion did not look amused; but he nodded, and beckoned to Patrick. Patrick came forward, trying not to look as reluctant as he felt. Those two were stil angry at each other; what Chryse thought was funny he didnâ€™t know, but he doubted that it boded wel . Belaparthalion gave him a lift up onto Chryseâ€™s back. Patrick gasped. The man in redâ€™s hands were fever-hot and as dry as snakeskin. Belaparthalion got up behind him, and the brisk autumn air in their vicinity became balmy. Patrick wondered if Belaparthalion were sick. If he were, it seemed unlikely that he would live long. If he didnâ€™t, Patrick had kil ed him. 
 	The trip back seemed slower to him, possibly because he was so hot. They stopped at last, and around them was the clearing in the pine woods where they had left the others. 
 	The others had built a fire. The air smel ed of woodsmoke, and a little of tea. Matthew and Celia were sitting on the ground on the far side of the clearing. They had brushed away al the pine needles from a spot about three feet square, and were drawing diagrams in the dirt beneath. 
 	Fence and El en and Laura sat around the fire, looking glum. 
 	Laura saw them first. Why her face should light up like that at the sight of the man in red, Patrick couldnâ€™t fathom. 
 	He felt pleased with himself, just the same, until he remembered how angry Chryse had been. The red man slid to the ground, and Patrick fol owed. Laura stood up. 
 	â€œWel met!â€​aid Belaparthalion to Laura. 
 	â€œSir,â€ said Laura. â€œPatrick, whereâ€™d you find him?â€​par 	â€œLet me introduce you,â€ said Patrick, resignedly. 
 	â€œThis is Laura, pro tem princess of the Hidden Land. 
 	Laura, this is Belaparthalion.â€​par 	Laura stared. Then she did Belaparthalion a pretty good courtesy, considering her disarray and her basic clumsiness. Patrick grinned at her; and his sister El en came around the fire, so he introduced her too, and she provided her overdramatic bow. Fence was stil sitting on the ground, and Patrick could not discern his thoughts in his round, solemn, deceptive face. Fence, thought Patrick, should have been his first lesson in appearances, if he had had the sense to learn it. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said the man in red; and he pushed, smiling, between Laura and El en, and sat on the ground too, rather closer to the fire than Patrick thought advisable. 
 	Even if his flesh wouldnâ€™t burn, his clothing might. 
 	â€œWe saved you some tea,â€ said Laura, â€œbut itâ€™s mostly cold.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s fine,â€ said Patrick. â€œIâ€™m warm enough.â€ He took the tin cup they gave him and drank the tea. Then he sat down and prepared to watch the fireworks. 
 	Â 
 	Laura knew from his face that he expected something interesting to happen. What Patrick found interesting, she usual y found appal ing. She sat down next to him, a safe distance from Fence and the red man, who were looking at each other steadily. Chryse folded herself to the ground in a posture that looked relaxed almost to the point of abandonment, like a cat about to rol on its back; except that she had her ears flat to her head, which in either a cat or a horse meant no good. Laura wished somebody would say something. After a few minutes, she said something herself. 
 	â€œChryse answered your riddles,â€ she said to Belaparthalion. 
 	His head came around. He looked startled, and then amused. â€œIn change for what?â€​e said. 
 	â€œA tale thou knowest,â€ said Chryse, in a precise plucking of sounds like somebody tinkering with a harp. 
 	â€œI wonder,â€​aid Belaparthalion. 
 	â€œThou wert inâ€™t,â€ retorted Chryse. Yes, she was very cross indeed. Laura wondered what about. 
 	â€œThat I was inâ€™t by no means requires that I knowâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™l tel it you also,â€ said Fence, â€œdo you tel us how you came in this shape.â€​par 	â€œAnd how you came to be in a globe in the House by the Wel of the White Witch,â€ rattled Patrick, for Fenceâ€™s benefit. 
 	â€œDone,â€ said Belaparthalion, briskly. â€œEvery dragon hath a man-shape, but few do employ it; it doth weaken us. Now Melanie, who is an old enemy of mine, did discover how to fling a dragon into his man-shape, and she did so to me, and then did imprison the dragon-shape in that globe wherefrom Patrick did so graciously rescue me.â€​par 	â€œWhy now?â€​aid Fence. 
 	Belaparthalion shrugged. 
 	â€œHow long were you thus?â€​par 	â€œShe did so divide me on the eighth day of June last.â€​par 	Fence looked across the fire at El en and Laura. Laura said, â€œWe showed up on the fourteenth.â€​par 	â€œAnd we showed up a couple of days earlier,â€ said El en. 
 	â€œShe did desire, then,â€​aid Belaparthalion, â€œthat we not meet.â€​par 	â€œAnd now that we have, what of it?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œFirst,â€ said Fence, â€œto the business of the Hidden Land. Lord, wil you in exchange for the swords of Shan and Melanie given to you and Chryse, conspire with Chryse for the good of the Hidden Land against the devices of the Dragon King?â€​par 	â€œI wil so,â€​aid Belaparthalion. 
 	Fence closed his eyes for a moment. Laura thought suddenly that, to him, this might be the most important of al the things they were doing. Claudia, anybody could see, was a worry; the deaths of the royal children were a grief; the connection between this strangersâ€™ game and Fenceâ€™s own reality was a puzzle. And of course something would have to be done about al of it. But this one thing he had at least ensured, that the Dragon King would trouble the Hidden Land no longer. 
 	â€œHaving given this word,â€ said Chryse, very coldly, â€œdo you tel us how you wil keep it, in so puny a form and with so dul ed a perception.â€​par 	â€œSweet cousin,â€ said Belaparthalion, in no very affectionate voice, â€œbeing neither man nor dragon, you do hold too low the powers of either. Fear me not.â€​par 	â€œI am in this oath also,â€ said Chryse, â€œand must supply your deficiencies, an your own strength be unequal.â€​par 	â€œWhen 
 	thou 
 	seest 
 	my 
 	deficiencies,â€ 
 	said
 	Belaparthalion, â€œask me again.â€​par 	â€œI do see them now,â€ said Chryse. â€œSome do approach, and yet you hear them not.â€​par 	Fence, looking resigned, cal ed Celia and Matthew. They stood up, brushed pine needles off themselves, and came over to the fire. â€œHereâ€™s Belaparthalion,â€ Fence said to them, â€œand the Lords of the Dead are coming.â€​par 	â€œGood morning!â€ said Matthew, with a kind of good-natured ruefulness, and smiled at the man in red. 
 	â€œIs that one pro tem also?â€ said Belaparthalion to Patrick. 
 	â€œNo, heâ€™s permanent,â€ said Patrick. â€œLord Matthew, Scribe to the King and Kingâ€™s Counselor. 
 	Matthew, this is your very own guardian dragon; show some respect. And this, my lord dragon, is Lady Celia, Kingâ€™s Counselor and musician.â€​par 	
 	Celia did Belaparthalion a courtesy; Matthew said to Fence, â€œWhatâ€™s amiss?â€​par 	There was a certain amount of crashing, and a flurry of unicorns bolted into the clearing, shied briefly at the clump of people, and converged on Chryse, hooting and chiming. 
 	â€œWhat, they?â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œI think thatâ€™s just the cavalry,â€ said El en. 
 	â€œSo to speak.â€​par 	â€œHow can you tel ?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œBecause,â€ said El en, â€œthe Lords of the Dead are of the sort of shape-shifter that is held to one kind of form only. They canâ€™t turn themselves into unicorns. 
 	Right, Fence?â€​par 	â€œRight,â€ said Fence, absently. He cast his gaze around the clearing. Laura, fol owing it, saw suddenly where the swords of Shan and Melanie stil lay as Celia had unwrapped them. Their glow had dimmed with the rising of the sun, but now they were blazing in unkind colors that pressed sparks under oneâ€™s eyelids and obscured the plain shapes of the trees. 
 	Oh, come on, thought Laura, not now. But she was caught. 
 	She looked unwil ingly upon a cluttered room bright with lamplight. Claudia sat at a round table, dressed in blue velvet, her black hair fal ing down her back, working with tiny tools at a band of tarnished metal. As Laura watched, she picked up a dul black stone from off the table and fitted it into the socket of the band. She had just made Shanâ€™s Ring, or something very like it. Then she picked up a red-and-blue wooden top that lay on the table, and pul ed toward her a little carved clock. She took blue and green stones and made a circle around the clock and the top. She set the pendulum of the clock swinging. She spun the top with an unthinking expertise behind which Laura saw, with a jolt, hours of playing; how strange to think that Claudia had ever been a child. Then she tossed the ring into the air and caught it again, grinning. 
 	Somebody wiry who smel ed like burning leaves took Laura under the arms and swung her off her feet, and the sight tattered and vanished. Fence had grabbed her and deposited her with the rest of the party at one edge of the clearing. The whole of the empty space was thronged with unicorns. She looked frantical y for the swords. Matthew, a little farther back in the trees, was holding Shanâ€™s, swinging it casual y in one hand as if it were a skipping-rope. Fence touched the top of Lauraâ€™s head and, when she looked up at him, showed her the green glow of Melanieâ€™s sword, thrust through his belt under the muddy black cloak. 
 	â€œWhere,â€ said El en, â€œare the Lords of the Dead going to stand, when they come?â€​par 	â€œWhereâ€™s Belaparthalion?â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œHeâ€™s standing with Chryse,â€ said Fence. 
 	â€œPatrick. Whatâ€™s their quarrel?â€​par 	Patrick, keeping a wary eye on the unicorns, and raising his voice from time to time to be heard over a sudden blare of horn or organ, a tril ing as of two hundred piccolos, a quivering barrage as of somebody dropping a harpsichord down a cement stairwel , answered this question with more detail than was usual with him. Laura was seized with equal parts of envy and of relief that she had not been faced with such a choice. 
 	â€œ â€™Sblood!â€ said El en, when he had finished. 
 	
 	â€œThat was stupid, but it certainly wasnâ€™t cowardly.â€​par 	â€œWhy stupid?â€ said Fence. â€œIf Belaparthalion said this was not his whim, then â€™twas not. I do not know, however, what this translation meaneth, nor what benefit Belaparthalion hopeth to gain from Melanieâ€™s sword sufficient to salve him for the loss oâ€™the dragon-shape.â€​par 	â€œAnd thatâ€™s Chryseâ€™s quarrel,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œBut if thatâ€™s our Apsinthion,â€ said Laura, â€œand Apsinthion is the Judge of the Dead, thenâ€”â€​par 	â€œHe answered to Belaparthalion,â€ said Patrick, stubbornly. 
 	â€œFence?â€​aid Laura. â€œCould he be both?â€​par 	â€œI trust not,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Matthew stepped forward, grabbed Fence by the arm, and pointed southward. â€œLook there,â€​e said. 
 	A soberly dressed, harmless-looking crowd of people was coming through the trees. There were nine of them. 
 	They wore neither cloaks nor swords. A shiver went up Lauraâ€™s spine. The unicorns melted away to the other side of the clearing, and the nine people walked to where the party from the Hidden Land stood. The light of the sun seemed flatter; Laura felt oppressed; and in several quick glances upward, she saw that a yel ow flame stood in al their eyes. They nodded amiably at the party from the Hidden Land, and then turned their backs. 
 	A lilting voice Laura knew addressed the unicorns, â€œHail, blithe spirits!â€ it said. â€œWe mean you no il , but seek one of our own.â€​par 	â€œNone of your own is here,â€ said Chryseâ€™s voice. A swel ing chorus in the back of the mind added, How shall I your true love know from another one? 
 	â€œLady, he is. Apsinthion!â€ said the rich voice, imperatively. 
 	The man in red made his way through the unicorns like a setter breasting a field of daisies, and halted in the smal space left in the center of the clearing. â€œYouâ€™re far from your wonted ways,â€​e said to them. 
 	â€œNo further than thou,â€​aid the austere voice. 
 	â€œI have been out before,â€ said the man in red, â€œwhile you were sleeping. For I did think, how should I judge the dead who had not seen the living?â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s your affair,â€ said the rich voice. â€œBut we do hear that you hold in trust somewhat that we desire.â€​par 	â€œYou may not haveâ€™t,â€​aid the man in red. 
 	â€œWe do not wish it,â€ said the lilting voice. â€œWe wish it silenced. Do you swear never to use it in any wise?â€​par 	â€œPeace, break thee off,â€ said Chryseâ€™s voice, in precisely the tone Lauraâ€™s father would use to say, â€œNow just a God damn minute!â€ She, too, pushed through the mil of unicorns until she stood next to the man in red. The inward chorus said peaceful y, Break, break, break, / On thy cold gray stones, O Sea!  Laura saw one or two of the Lords of the Dead rub at their foreheads, and hoped that the poetry was giving them a headache. 
 	â€œBelaparthalion,â€ said Chryse, and there was very little music in her voice. â€œWhat art thou?â€ There is no art,  said the chorus, To find the mindâ€™s construction in the face. 
 	â€œI am the man-shape of a dragon,â€ said the man in red. â€œI am the Judge of the Dead. And, though thou would it were not so, I am thy cousin.â€​par 	â€œThe Judge of the Dead,â€ said Chryse, with less music yet, â€œis an Outside Power.â€ The chorus was silent. 
 	The man in red said, â€œThat is so.â€​par 	â€œI do not wel understand this,â€ said Chryse. â€œBut I do understand wel indeed that you and I are sworn to guard the Hidden Land â€™gainst the depredations of the Outside Powers. Iâ€™l do my duty wel , then, to guard it â€™gainst thee.â€​par 	The unicorns, stil silent, foamed backward among the trees and quivered there, white in the shadows. Chryse backed away and lowered her silky head, with its golden eyes and its whiskered nose and its long, sharp, mortal horn. 
 	Fence dragged Melanieâ€™s sword from his belt. 
 	â€œMy lord!â€​par 	The man in red reached back a hand, and Fence slapped the hilt into it. The sword flashed like breaking glass as he touched it. He took it between his two palms and extended it toward Chryse. â€œI cry you mercy,â€ he said. â€œThis wil do naught but il .â€​par 	Chryse said, with a ful complement of melody ringing behind her words, â€œAl may yet be very wel .â€​par 	Laura looked wildly at Fence. His fists were clenched and his eyes were enormous, but he seemed to feel that he had done al he could when he gave the sword to the red man. 
 	
 	But al that did was even the odds. One of the guardians of the Hidden Land was going to kil the other. Some guardians. They were behaving irresponsibly in the extreme. 
 	But Lauraâ€™s outrage was not enough to make her tel them so; nor were they likely to listen. Stealth would have to serve. 
 	â€œFence!â€ she whispered. â€œGive me Shanâ€™s Ring.â€​par 	Fence had plunged his hand into his belt-pouch before the surprised look was off his face. He pressed the ring into her hand. Laura, plucking bad poetry out of her memory, breathed. â€œAnd Shanâ€™s sword.â€ He wouldnâ€™t do it. A peculiar magical artifact, sure; but not a weapon. But Fence drifted backward, as if to give the combatants more room, and pul ed Matthew with him. 
 	Chryse and the man in red had begun to circle each other. 
 	Laura wondered if they would actual y have a fencing match, with the horn serving as a sword, or if Chryse would charge and stab with that horn and the man in red fend for himself as best he could. If Chryse wanted to show him his weakness, she might succeed. 
 	Fence edged up beside Laura and said, â€œItâ€™s beneath my cloak. What mean you to do?â€​par 	â€œBlow time awry,â€ said Laura, â€œso everybody can think. Hand me the sword.â€​par 	She stil thought he would not do it. She could not explain her reasoning, if he should ask. Patrick would not cal it reasoning at al . Chryse moved suddenly and drove the needle-sharp icicle of her violet-spiraled horn straight at the red manâ€™s breast. He skittered to one side; Celia, right in Chryseâ€™s path, did not move, and Chryse stopped in a shower of pine needles. 
 	â€œThink, lady,â€ said Celia, the scar standing out on her forehead. 
 	Chryse backed without looking at her and lowered her horn again. And the hilt of Shanâ€™s sword, so perfectly sized for a ten-year-oldâ€™s hand, tingled from Fenceâ€™s hand into Lauraâ€™s nervous grip. Laura took three steps forward, dropped Shanâ€™s sword onto the ground between the combatants, stepped back, hurled Shanâ€™s Ring into the air, and gabbled, â€œI am a trinket in the world, unvalued gold and sul en stone, but Outside Power is unfurled, when outside power I am hurled, and time awry is blown.â€​par 	Chryse and Belaparthalion stood stil , Chryse in a graceful pose that any sculptor would have been proud of, and the man in red with one foot in the air and the sword arrested between one useful position and another. Their eyes were alarming; so wide and empty that neither of them seemed to be there at al . Laura remembered Claudia, staring on the steps of Fenceâ€™s tower with a knife in her fist. 
 	â€œNice work,â€ said Patrick, a little hoarsely. â€œBut theyâ€™re going to be just as mad when they wake up.â€​par 	â€œI thought,â€ said Laura, â€œthat if we got the unicorns to surround Chryse and took the sword away from Belaparthalion, we could calm them down enough to explain whatâ€™s going on.â€​par 	â€œExcel ent,â€ said Fence; there was congratulation in his voice, but also a definite irony. â€œNow weâ€™ve only to find out that we must explain to them.â€​par 	â€œI thought,â€ said Laura, coming back to his comforting vicinity, â€œthat the Lords of the Dead could tel us.â€​par 	â€œThe Lords of the Dead,â€ said the piercing voice of a unicorn, from the froth among the trees, â€œhave been sleeping.â€​par 	â€œThe Lords of the Dead,â€ said the lilting voice, â€œwish only to go on sleeping. Give us these raucous swords and weâ€™l trouble you no longer.â€​par 	â€œAnd also that shrieking ring,â€​aid the rich voice. 
 	The unicorns made a sound like an entire acre ful of wind chimes. It came to Laura that they were laughing. She hoped the Lords of the Dead would not notice. 
 	â€œKnow you aught of the Judge of the Dead?â€ said Fence, to the soberly dressed party general y. 
 	â€œHe is of the Outside Powers,â€​aid the lilting voice. 
 	â€œAre dragons also of the Outside Powers?â€ said Fence, patiently. 
 	â€œDragons,â€ said the rich voice, â€œare not so much as of the immortals. We have seen dragons beneath the earth; Apsinthion hath judged them; do you ask him.â€​par 	â€œBy and by,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œSo Chryseâ€™s charges are true,â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œHow came matters to this pass?â€​aid Matthew. 
 	â€œThat would we know also,â€​aid the lilting voice. 
 	â€œWel , Apsinthion aka Belaparthalion ought to know,â€ said El en. â€œHeâ€™s the one whoâ€™s fish and flesh. So to speak.â€​par 	â€œWhy should he know?â€ said Patrick. â€œYou might as wel say, when we got into this country we should have known what was going on, just because it happened to us.â€​par 	 You might as well say,  chorused the unicorns, that â€œI sleep when I breatheâ€ is the same thing as â€œI breathe when I sleep.â€​ There was a pause, and as the white horde drifted and nodded just a little in the direction of the Lords of the Dead, they added, It is the same thing with you.  Laura and El en burst out laughing. Patrick, who scorned Lewis Carrol , rol ed his eyes at them. 
 	â€œWel , weâ€™d better figure out something,â€ he said. â€œWe donâ€™t know how long this spel lasts.â€​par 	â€œCome to that,â€ said Matthew, gently, â€œwe know not how to remove it. Laura, why not have used â€˜rom the horns of Unicornsâ€™?â€​par 	â€œBecause that wouldnâ€™t have done Chryse any good,â€​aid Laura. â€œHe was mad at her by that time.â€​par 	â€œTrue,â€​aid Fence. â€œAnd very wel done.â€​par 	Laura began to feel foolish just the same. There was no use in averting a crisis if al you achieved was a limbo. She looked at the two arrested figures, and at the sword of Shan where it lay among the dry brown needles. She unclenched her cramped hand from around Shanâ€™s Ring, and held it out to Fence. And she remembered something. 
 	â€œHey!â€ she cried. â€œYou unicorns! Didnâ€™t I do it? Didnâ€™t I change time of my own power?â€​par 	â€œWhat hast thou seen and not told?â€ said one of them. 
 	Laura felt herself turning red. She dropped the ring into Fenceâ€™s palm and sent and stood on the far side of an immense pine tree. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She thought of Cedricâ€™s flute. No, this could not be cal ed the end. This was a sil y situation, but it was hardly the end. The stupid tears dazzled her vision. 
 	She groped inside her cloak to find a piece of shirt clean enough to wipe her eyes on, and the blur of sun and saltwater sharpened suddenly into a scene that was not the green pine woods with their dusty shafts of sunlight. It was the massive castle she had seen once at night, garlanded with fireworks; and folded within one corner of its vast stretch of wal s, between the low outer wal with its bristling of towers and the high, thick inner wal , lay the formal rose garden she had also seen before. Andrew and Randolph crossed swords; a clump of brightly dressed people watched. Then Ted flung himself out of the crowd, yel ing something she could not hear, and with his own sword struck to the ground the crossed blades of Randolph and Andrew. A figure with flying black hair grabbed Andrew from behind. And Randolph lifted his sword again and lunged at Ted. 
 	It was what they had come back here to avert. And she could tel , by the length of Tedâ€™s hair, by the clothes they wore, festive clothes she had helped Agatha pick out for the embassy to wear at the court of the Dragon King, that it was happening soon; or perhaps it was happening now. 
 	â€œFence!â€ shouted Laura, and bolted around the tree. 
 	â€œListen. Ted is fighting Randolph in the Dragon Kingâ€™s rose garden. Weâ€™ve got a magic ring, a magic sword, and a magic flute; canâ€™t we do something?â€​par 	â€œThis is a present vision?â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t know. Itâ€™s not very future.â€​par 	
 	â€œLetâ€™s not take the risk, for Godâ€™s sake,â€
 	said Patrick. 
 	â€œYouâ€™re a wizard; do something.â€​par 	â€œI canâ€™t fly through the air!â€ snapped Fence. He drove both hands into his hair and strode between Chryse and Belaparthalion, ducking under the vicious horn as if it were a dangling vine. He plunged in among the unicorns, gesticulating. Laura could not hear clearly what he was saying in his light voice, but the replies of the unicorns were clear. 
 	â€œWe can take thee.â€​par 	â€œAye, we can take you al .â€​par 	â€œBut upon one condition; that thou releasest our sister.â€​par 	Fenceâ€™s reaction to that was louder. â€œAn I release thy sister, wil you stand surety for the safety of her enemy there?â€​par 	â€œThat is her affair and thine, not ours.â€​par 	â€œShanâ€™s sweet mercy!â€ shouted Fence. â€œI am making it your affair. I wil release her only on that condition.â€​par 	â€œHe canâ€™t release her anyway,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œShut up,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œAn you release her not, we carry you nowhere,â€
 	said a unicorn. 
 	â€œIâ€™l give you Shanâ€™s Ring,â€ said Fence, in less furious but carrying tones. 
 	The little knot of the Lords of the Dead stirred. In very mel ow tones, a unicorn said, â€œThe bargain made touching that ring precludes our having it.â€​par 	Something in the voice alerted Laura. It wanted to be argued with; it wanted to coax some particular statement out of them, so that it could take the ring. She pushed through the crowd of unicorns and caught Fence by the hand. His burning-leaf smel mingled with the spicy scent of the unicorns. â€œListen,â€ said Laura. â€œShanâ€™s Ring was supposed to save the Hidden Land from the machinations of Melanie. But she made the sword that woke you up; she made Shanâ€™s Ring too.â€ Fenceâ€™s hand jerked in hers; he had not known that. â€œThis is all a machination of Melanie,â€ said Laura; and stopped. That was not true; and her intuition failed her suddenly. It had al been so clear in her head. 
 	But the unicorn said, â€œWel enough. Now what of the second condition, that that ring become an heirloom of Shanâ€™s house?â€​par 	Once again, you could tel that it hoped for the point it made to be properly countered. Lauraâ€™s invention had dried up. 
 	â€œThe children of Shanâ€™s house,â€ said Fence, with a terrible grim triumph, â€œare below the earth. That conditionâ€™s forfeit.â€​par 	The unicorn was taken aback by this; but the rich voice of a Lord of the Dead said, â€œâ€™Twere better you gave it to us.â€​par 	â€œWhat wil that profit me?â€ roared Fence, without turning. 
 	â€œFirst, we wil deliver al present to the court of the Dragon King. Second, we wil deliver Shanâ€™s Ring to Edward Fairchild, that both conditions of the bargain be met.â€​par 	There was a smal silence. 
 	â€œWel , fair ones?â€ said Fence. â€œWhite ones? 
 	Drinkers of verse? What say you to that?â€​par 	â€œGive it them,â€ said the unicorns, in overlapping waves. â€œWeâ€™l have no peace else.â€ Even in the midst of her anxiety, Laura thought how curious it was that magical creatures wanted sleep and peace more than they wanted anything else. 
 	Fence said, â€œStand you witness to this bargain?â€​par 	â€œWe do.â€​par 	Fence turned around. â€œDone,â€ he said to the Lords of the Dead. 
 	The Lords of the Dead did not believe in preliminaries. 
 	Being delivered by them was not like riding a unicorn. It was a great deal more, Laura thought, like being picked up by a tornado. Darkness stabbed about with red fire, howling voices, and a vast noise of distant water overtook her. 
 	Dwindling down the distances of her mind, the unicorns remarked, I pray you pass with your best violence. 
 	
 CHAPTER 29

 	THE fresh-faced girl sat at the head of their table; saw to it that whatever she thought they needed arrived promptly; and conducted the conversation with the same absent-minded skil Tedâ€™s father exhibited when he played solitaire at four in the morning because he was too tired to go to bed. 
 	She had sorted them out so that it was impossible to continue the argument in any kind of privacy: on her right were Ted, Jerome, Ruth, and Julian; at the foot of the table, pale but smiling, was Andrew; and up the other side, from Andrew to the fresh-faced girl, sat Stephen, Dittany, and Randolph. Ted was sure she had seated them that way on purpose. 
 	Sometime after the roast chicken and the potatoes cooked with cheese and radishes and the three kinds of bread and the sweet butter and the cucumbers and several dishes veiled in pastry that Ted couldnâ€™t identify had al come and gone, the conversational topics she had sown over the table actual y took root down at its foot; something about a new kind of stone they were digging up in the Outer Isles. The five at that end were absorbed by it, while Dittany, Randolph, and Jerome got tired of shouting their comments into the intel ectual morass at the tableâ€™s far end and diverged into a discussion of the castleâ€™s architecture. 
 	Ruth sat stranded between these two conversations, a line between her black brows, biting her lip and eating when she remembered. She looked as if she were doing a stiff homework assignment. 
 	That left the fresh-faced girl only Ted to deal with. She smiled and commended him on his part in the battle just past, as if she were congratulating him on a good game of tennis. It would be rude to appear horrified, especial y when he had no idea of the exact status of al the creatures he had kil ed. Ted said something deprecating and watched her peel a peach. He remembered Conrad at the Banquet of Midsummer Eve, eating a peach without bothering to peel it; and his cheerful acceptance of the fact that Ted, going for Andrew, had spil ed his dinner al over Conrad. Conrad was dead; one of the creatures of dubious status had kil ed him. 
 	And the other people those creatures had kil ed, strangers to him, he knew their status also. Edward had known al of them. 
 	The fresh-faced girl finished her peach and looked inquiringly at him; he had missed her last question. Wanting stil to be polite, both because it would be disaster to be otherwise and because she was so pretty, he looked up at her, readying a change of subject that would not seem too abrupt; and saw the little blue flame standing in each of her eyes. Edward said remotely, They will turn me in your arms into a lion bold.  And Ted saw her clear eyes and fresh skin and silky yel ow hair and clever hands al as a garment she was wearing, the black dress but a cloak dragged carelessly over it. 
 	They were clearing away dishes and bringing in the rose-water by then. Ted swal owed hard and asked her, completely at random, if she played any musical instrument. 
 	This got her off the subject of the war; but it also brought her, lute in hand, back to their rooms with them, for three acutely uncomfortable hours. She was a bril iant musician. Ruth got out her flute; Randolph took a turn at the lute; everybody sang. But there was no comfort in it and al the camaraderie was false. 
 	
 	When she trailed her black skirts out the door at last, thanking them al graciously and bidding them to have pleasant rest, it was after midnight. The Dragon King had granted them audience at nine in the morning. 
 	Stephen, Dittany, Jerome, and Julian looked hopeful y at Randolph, and then went upstairs. Ted lay on the bed and looked around. Ruth was sunk in the armchair Andrew had sat in earlier. Randolph sat on the hearth with his head in his hands. Andrew was sitting on a stool in a far corner. To reiterate his order to Andrew would be an insult. But Ted wanted to say something, after the constraint of the evening. 
 	â€œWas that a strange dinner,â€ he said, â€œor am I just uncivilized?â€​par 	Randolph gave a brief snort of laughter from under his hands. â€œI hope you never see one stranger,â€​e said. 
 	â€œDid you see that woman peel that peach?â€ said Ruth. â€œIt would take me ten years to learn to do that.â€​par 	â€œThat 
 	wasnâ€™t 
 	a 
 	woman,â€ 
 	said 
 	Ted. 
 	â€œRandolph, what does it mean that she has little blue flames in her eyes?â€​par 	â€œThat she is of the shape-shifters that choose what form pleaseth them,â€ said Randolph. â€œAl present were but so.â€​par 	â€œWhy did that form please her?â€ said Ruth, sitting forward. 
 	â€œA courtesy to us, who have been but the one form, perhaps,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œWel , that would be why she didnâ€™t turn up as a tree or a horse; but couldnâ€™t she have been a nice wholesome-looking boy?â€​par 	
 	â€œSheâ€™s the Dragon Kingâ€™s daughter,â€ said Andrew, â€œand her eyeâ€™s on Edward.â€​par 	Randolph lifted his head and looked at Andrew. Ruth, too, turned and peered over the edge of her armchair at him; and both of them looked as if they wondered, not at the assertion itself, but at how Andrew knew it. 
 	Ted said, as level y as he could, â€œIs that part of your idea of an al iance rather than a chastisement?â€​par 	â€œYou could do worse,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	He did not look at Ruth; he clearly meant Ruth; and nobody in the room took him up on it. Ted rol ed over and sat up on the bed. Randolph said, â€œWhat have you promised him?â€​par 	â€œI?â€ said Andrew. â€œHow should I promise him aught?â€​par 	â€œAye, how? Do tel us.â€​par 	Andrew seemed unlikely to answer. He was the only relaxed person in the room; the rest of them were strung up like so many overwound crossbows. Then he made a little impatient motion of the head, and said, â€œAn the servers cal her Princess, is she not the Dragon Kingâ€™s daughter? An she make eyes at Edward, shal I not note it?â€​par 	Randolph swung around and caught Tedâ€™s eye. Ted stood up. â€œAndrew,â€ he said, â€œIâ€™m sorry, but I fear your tongue. I think you had better not come to our audience with the Dragon King.â€​par 	â€œYou should fearâ€™t,â€ said Andrew. â€œShal I cal our four companions?â€​par 	
 	Ted thought of them; one unknown quantity; one of the old Kingâ€™s men-at-arms; two of the old Kingâ€™s Counselors, whose opinion of his heir was not high, who had served on the board of inquiry into the old Kingâ€™s death. If there were factions in that odd body, the old Kingâ€™s Council, Jerome and Julian were not of Fence and Randolphâ€™s faction. 
 	â€œYou gave your word to King Wil iam,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œRandolph, believing King Wil iam misguided,â€ said Andrew, â€œdid wish to do him a great injury. Wherefore should not I, believing Randolph misguided, do him a lesser?â€​par 	â€œAndrew,â€ said Randolph, â€œdo but consider the injury you do yourself. Your nature is not made for these convolvings; the leaning of your thought is to plain proceeding.â€​par 	â€œAnd thine is better made for crooked ways?â€ said Andrew. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Randolph. â€œWherefore I may so advise you.â€​par 	â€œI wil come to this audience,â€​aid Andrew. 
 	â€œYou know,â€ said Ruth, reflectively, â€œI donâ€™t think you can stop him.â€​par 	â€œFor Godâ€™s sake,â€ said Ted, â€œletâ€™s go to bed.â€​par 	There was a large alcove with a bed for Ruth, and a smal er one with a bed for Andrew. Ted and Randolph got the four-poster, which had a feather mattress into which you sank so far you hardly needed the blankets. Ted hoped he wouldnâ€™t have to leap out of it in a hurry. He was sleeping in his clothes, as was Randolph, precisely out of a fear that he might want to leave this room quickly. He lay enfolded in lavender-smel ing linen and watched Randolph bank the fire, and move around the room, blowing out al the candles and bolting the door. Cold moonlight trickled in from the window to the inner courtyard, which nobody had bothered to shutter. Randolph came to Tedâ€™s side of the bed, holding a long, thin shape that glinted. 
 	â€œIs that my sword?â€​aid Ted. 
 	Randolph bent briefly. â€œIâ€™ve laid the hilt ready to thy hand,â€​e said. 
 	â€œOr my foot,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œHence the blade is under the bed,â€ said Randolph. 
 	He walked to the other side, laid his own sword down, and got into bed. 
 	â€œGive you quiet rest,â€​e said. 
 	â€œAnd 
 	nice, 
 	innocuous 
 	dreams,â€ 
 	said 
 	Ted. 
 	â€œRandolph? What do you think Andrew wil do?â€​par 	â€œGood night,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Ted didnâ€™t have one. He dreamed disjointedly of people with flames in their eyes, red or yel ow or blue, who spoke him fair and hugged him warmly and turned in his arms to adders and asps, to flames that burned fast, to doves that beat their wings in his face and swans that pecked him. Last of al came the fresh-faced girl, who, when he smiled and kept his distance from her, turned appal ingly into Margaret, Celiaâ€™s daughter, and asked him in the most prosaic possible manner if he would play the part of the cat for her, for she had been overtaken with sickness. 
 	Ted refused politely, whereupon she smiled, Margaretâ€™s own bright mocking smile; and he saw in her eyes, where no flame stood, the little image of what she was looking at; and it was not his own familiar unprepossessing figure, but a cat. 
 	Ted jerked upright. The whole bed was bathed in moonlight and he had gotten himself tangled in the blankets. 
 	He began to set them to rights softly, so as not to wake Randolph, and saw then that Randolph lay staring open-eyed at the dark ceiling. He turned his head and took the edge of the misplaced blanket Ted held out to him, but he did not speak. 
 	Â 
 	The Dragon King held his audiences in the formal garden, before breakfast. The grass here was stil green, and so were the dark, red-veined leaves of the little ornamental trees. The roses were everywhere, the smel of them heavy on air already warmer than a fal afternoon would be in the Hidden Land. 
 	The Dragon King looked like his daughter; or at least, the guise he had chosen, rosy-skinned, yel ow-haired, quick-handed, and young for what he was doing, resembled hers strongly. He had a very deep voice. He sat on a raised platform that looked as if it were made of teak and was carved in closely packed shapes of animals and trees. His chair was silver. The people awaiting audience had carved chairs with silk cushions. The embassy of the Hidden Land sat, tense and sleepy and hungry, not speaking to one another, for about fifteen minutes while the Dragon King dealt incomprehensibly with a delegation from the Outer Isles, come to sel stone, and with two people who had some business to do with lions. Then the fresh-faced girl beckoned to them. Ted, Randolph, and Andrew walked over the long strip of carpet laid on the grass to where the Dragon King awaited them. 
 	Randolph, having received permission to speak for his King, who was young and but newly come to his eminence, was al owed to get al the way through his speech. Ted admired it. In the most flattering and mel ifluous terms imaginable, it cal ed the Dragon King an unprincipled meddler from no other motive than malice, and required him to desist or he would be sorry for it. It also required payment of damages for the waste of lives and property attendant on the late war. 
 	The Dragon King heard it al , smiling. He did not deny the charges; he did not, either, cloak his answer in the same flowery terms so that he would sound, superficial y, as if he were admitting nothing. â€œI offer you in compensation for your wrongs,â€ he said, â€œthe most precious thing in my power: the hand of my daughter in marriage.â€​par 	Ted stared at Andrew; but Andrew had merely al owed mild interest to overtake the bland expression he had been wearing since he got up. It was impossible to tel if he had expected this, let alone engineered it. 
 	Ted looked at Randolph, in case he was, God help him, supposed to answer this offer himself. Randolph only regarded the Dragon King thoughtful y, and let a good long silence develop before he answered. â€œThat is a most generous offering,â€ he said; and actual y made his best bow in the direction of the fresh-faced girl, who did him a courtesy in return. â€œI do regret exceedingly that King Edward is betrothed already, and neither can nor wil give offense in that quarter.â€​par 	Ted was afraid to look at Andrew. The Dragon King al owed his own silence to develop. He said at last, mildly, â€œMight that quarter be otherwise satisfied? I have a son.â€​par 	Ted felt his jaw dropping, and quickly clamped his mouth shut. Was this some kind of joke? 
 	Andrew said, â€œThe Kingâ€™s betrothed is here, your grace.â€​par 	â€œLet her come forward,â€ said the Dragon King, agreeably. 
 	Ted jerked, and felt Randolphâ€™s hand on his arm, very lightly. Then Randolph turned and walked back along the red carpet, past the brightly dressed people in their carved chairs, to where Ruth sat petrified in the midst of her traveling companions, and held out his hand to her. Ruth had put on one of Lady Ruthâ€™s white dresses, a gauzy thing that didnâ€™t show creases. It was better suited to this weather than the layered silks and velvets everybody else was wearing. She was whiter than the dress; but when she took Randolphâ€™s hand and stood up, the red mounted in her face until she looked as she had three summers ago, when she won their influenza competition with a temperature of a hundred and four. 
 	She and Randolph walked back up the strip of carpet, and Ted and Andrew fel aside for them. 
 	â€œWhat say you, lady?â€​aid the Dragon King. 
 	â€œI cry you mercy,â€ said Ruth in an admirably steady and carrying voice. â€œIt grieves me to refuse your splendiferous offer. But my heart is given already.â€​par 	Oh clever Ruth, thought Ted. 
 	â€œIs it, lady?â€ said Andrew. â€œAnd to whom? Not to your King, to your betrothed, is that not so?â€​par 	
 	â€œIt is given,â€​aid Ruth, â€œwhat matter where? Why should I insult the son of the Dragon King with an empty betrothal?â€​par 	â€œThere is no insult,â€ said the Dragon King, equably. 
 	â€œA marriage of policy likes us wel . Heâ€™s richly dowered; and how in conscience could we make war on any country wherein he lived and was happy?â€​par 	Ruth stood dumb; she was out of her depth, and Ted couldnâ€™t blame her. He had the horrible feeling that the Dragon King was not playing a part; that his understanding of marriage and giving of hearts was extremely faulty, and that he truly thought, making this monstrous offer, that he was offering just, even liberal recompense. 
 	â€œWhat saith the King of the Hidden Land?â€ said Andrew. 
 	Ted looked at Randolph, who returned him a steady gaze of which Ted could make nothing, and who did not offer to answer for him. Ted assembled what courage he had, and addressed the young, benign face of the Dragon King. â€œI am sorry,â€ he said. â€œBut I think it would be a greater wrong than that you so liberal y seek to recompense, to break up these old agreements and shatter al the fabric of policy they uphold in our country. Nor could we be easy having wrested from you the fairest flower of your land. 
 	Some more modest payment, surely, would serve better, as is commonly given after war.â€​par 	The Dragon King stil looked benign, but as if he were turning this speech over in his mind to see what it was made of. 
 	Andrew said, â€œThere is no fabric of policy. These are lies. Lord Randolph isâ€”â€​par 	
 	â€œAndrew,â€ said Randolph, softly, as if he were asking him, under the hum of dinner conversation, to pass the salt, â€œhold your tongue.â€​par 	â€œI wil not so,â€ said Andrew. He addressed the Dragon King, on whose unclouded countenance a shadow of trouble was appearing. â€œMy lord. Itâ€™s time for plain speaking. These men do fling your offer in your face because they are mostâ€”â€​par 	Randolph whipped the sword from its sheath at his side and slammed the flat of it across Andrewâ€™s chest. 
 	â€œOne of us,â€ he said, â€œwil die ere the next words leave thy mouth.â€​par 	In fact, Andrew could probably have blurted out a few words before Randolph kil ed him; but Ted saw from the reaction around him that this was not an extemporaneous remark, but the beginning of a ritual chal enge. He didnâ€™t see why Andrew should choose to abide by it when he was wil ing to flout any other convention that hindered him; but Andrew stood stil , his face flaming and his eyes burning into Randolphâ€™s, while al around them people got out of their chairs and moved them back and created a wide open space, dotted with a few rose trees, for their arena. 
 	â€œI cry you mercy, lord King,â€ said Randolph, without looking around, â€œthat these our private woes should come to their conclusion in the realm of your pleasures.â€​par 	â€œAl may yet be very wel ,â€ said the Dragon King, placidly. 
 	Ted turned slowly and stared at him; Ruth was doing the same. Randolph, however, disengaged his look from Andrewâ€™s and turned it on Ted. â€œDo you remember those words,â€​e said. 
 	
 	â€œNow wait,â€​aid Ted, â€œjust aâ€”â€​par 	But the daughter of the Dragon King touched Andrew on the shoulder, and both Andrew and Randolph fol owed her to the center of the open space. Al the brightly dressed people crowded around in a circle, like the audience at some open-air juggling act. Ted saw the alarmed faces of Stephen and Julian, with Dittany shaking her head behind them and Jerome looking furious; but none of them, it was clear, proposed to do anything except watch. The Dragon King joined the crowd. Whether from respect, scorn, or suspicion, nobody stood closer than a few feet to Ted and Ruth. 
 	Andrew drew his own sword. He and Randolph saluted first the Dragon King and then each other. The fresh-faced girl held out a short sword of her own, over which they crossed theirs. She removed her sword with a hiss of metal, and Andrew and Randolph began to fight. 
 	Andrew was amazingly good. Ted doubted that he was as good as Randolph; but of course, Randolph was not going to do his best. He was going to give them a good show to save Andrewâ€™s face, and then he was going to let Andrew kil him. Wil iam had told him to hold his tongue, so he would hold his tongue; but both his natural inclinations and his bargain with the Lords of the Dead had determined him to die. Ted could see it in his face. 
 	â€œRuth, weâ€™ve got to do something,â€ he said, very quietly. 
 	â€œHe wouldnâ€™t,â€ said Ruth, who had clearly come to the same conclusion Ted had and was now rejecting it. 
 	â€œHe wouldnâ€™t leave us in a mess like this.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m not prepared to take the risk. This has got to stop. Besides, I donâ€™t want him kil ing Andrew either, just to keep our secret. Or for any other reason. Iâ€™l introduce some due process into this place if Iâ€” Die for it,â€​ finished Edward. Ted let his breath out. 
 	â€œGood point,â€ said Ruth. â€œWhich of them do you want to tackle? If we stop Andrew, Randolph wil stop.â€​par 	â€œYou canâ€™t just stop him,â€ said Ted, â€œyouâ€™ve got to shut him up long enough for Randolph to retrieve the situation.â€​par 	â€œAl right,â€ said Ruth, â€œIâ€™l go for Andrew; heâ€™s not very big.â€​par 	This is crazy, thought Ted. â€œI,â€ he said firmly, â€œwil distract Andrew so you can get near him, and then grab Randolph.â€​par 	To a point, this worked. Ted pushed his way through the intent crowd, awaited his moment, ran out into the open space, and smashed his own sword, the one he had found in the armory of High Castle, which fit into his hand as one piece of a jigsaw puzzle fits into its neighbor, down on the momentarily crossed swords of Randolph and Andrew. 
 	Andrew disengaged at once, and turned on him. A pair of gauze-clad arms wrenched Andrewâ€™s arms behind. 
 	Ruth wasnâ€™t strong enough to stop his mouth too, but he didnâ€™t shout anything distinguishable while he struggled. 
 	She twisted at his wrist in a way Ted thought she must have gotten from Lady Ruth, and Andrewâ€™s sword bounced on the grass. 
 	None of the Dragon Kingâ€™s people seemed likely to interfere. Ted, breathing hard, looked at Randolph; and Randolph struck Tedâ€™s drooping sword upward with his own and lunged at him. 
 	Tedâ€™s sword, the sword he had dreamed of before he found it, the sword with which he fought a dream-bout with Randolph and made but one mistake, answered for him. 
 	This was not the cool, moon-silvered garden of his dream. 
 	He had neither moon nor sun in his eyes, but heard the roaring of the sea. The grass was not wet; it gave him good purchase. His feet and Randolphâ€™s did not squeak on the Dragon Kingâ€™s grass, but rushed and rustled. Their light blades did not hiss, but clanged as they came together, for this was neither a dream nor a session of practice. 
 	Tedâ€™s eyes stung with sweat. The clear, bright light of this southern morning seemed to be dimming; the roar, maybe, was a storm coming up. The air in the rose garden was stil . He had no leisure to look up. 
 	But he was fighting in the same way as he tied his shoes or rode a bicycle, easily and without thought. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the names of Randolphâ€™s moves and his own were flicking by, too quick and faint to catch. 
 	The crowd was quiet. Suddenly Ted knew he had Randolph. 
 	He did something with his wrist that swept Randolphâ€™s sword out of line; and lunged straight at Randolph with a force that should have put the sword through him. And froze, ful y extended, his sword stretched foolishly in the empty air, three inches from Randolph. 
 	He saw on Randolphâ€™s face not fear, not relief, but a sick disappointment. Randolph would go on standing there, and Ted could kil him. â€œOh, no,â€ he said, the harsh air rasping in and out of his aching throat. â€œNo way, my lord.â€ The crowd was making a great deal of noise now, but nobody had come out here to intervene. The roaring was louder. 
 	 Have at him now,  said Edward. He killed my father.  Your father forgave him! thought Ted furiously, which was a mistake; it let Edward further in, and Edward knew this sword, this body, and his own mind. 
 	Dittany and Stephen were now holding on to Andrew. Ruth might not be strong enough to hold Edward, but he didnâ€™t trust anybody else. â€œRuth!â€​e shouted at the top of his voice. â€œCome here!â€ He and Edward lifted the sword, and then Ted wrenched himself around so that it pointed nowhere. Randolph circled and placed himself before it again. Ruth came up behind Ted. â€œGrab my arms,â€​asped Ted. â€œGet the sword away.â€​par 	Ruth promptly pinioned him as she had Andrew, but made no move to take the sword. â€œAre you crazy?â€ she said in his ear. She smel ed of lavender. 
 	â€œItâ€™s Edward,â€ panted Ted. â€œSay something soothing to him, canâ€™t you?â€ Edward was silent now, but Ted was afraid to move the sword, lest it cal him back. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€​aid Ruth, â€œput away thy sword.â€​par 	 â€œNo,â€​ said Ted, â€œdonâ€™t make him disarm himself. Edward wants me to kil him.â€ Confusion now hath made his masterpiece,  said Edward, faintly. The roaring grew louder. 
 	â€œEdward wonâ€™t kil an unarmed man,â€ said Ruth. 
 	Edward said nothing. â€œRandolph,â€ said Ruth, as if she were talking to Patrick. â€œDrop the sword.â€​par 	Randolph, the sweat running down his flushed face, his hair dripping, and every fold of his doublet limp as old lettuce, shook his head. His gaze, however, lingered on Ruth. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Ted, in desperation, â€œby your oath to me, put down that sword.â€​par 	
 	Randolphâ€™s hand tightened visibly on the hilt of the sword; he brought it back into line; and then he curved up the corners of his mouth in the most mirthless smile Ted had ever seen, said, â€œI do obey you, both my lieges,â€ and dropped it. 
 	Ted uncramped his sword hand, and his own sword rol ed on the grass with Randolphâ€™s. Ruth let go of him, and he walked unsteadily up to Randolph, a long, ordered, meticulous rebuke rising in his breast. Randolph reached out a shaking hand, probably meant for his shoulder, and bumped it against his col arbone with no more force than that of a fal ing leaf. â€œLook behind you, my prince,â€ he said, in what was left of his voice. 
 	Ted turned, thinking that Andrew was going to make trouble again. He found Andrewâ€™s gold velvet back, but Andrew was just standing there, as was everybody else. 
 	Ruth was making her way in their direction with great speed. 
 	Ten feet away stood what they were al looking at, a grimy and bedraggled group of people, every one of whom Ted knew; and a cluster of soberly dressed and nondescript people, whom he did not know, and a little apart from them, the man in red, and a unicorn, both unnatural y stil . 
 	The man in red held a sword that shone green as bottle-glass. Melanieâ€™s. Who had given him that? Ted took an incautious step forward, and one of his knees buckled. 
 	Randolph caught him under the arm, and then they were both on their knees in the grass. 
 	â€œJust rest a moment,â€ said Ted. He almost had his breath back, but his legs felt rubbery, and Randolphâ€™s arm was quivering. â€œLet them get settled down. Who are those weird people in brown? They look like a bunch of lawyers.â€​par 	
 	â€œThose are the Lords of the Dead,â€ said Randolph, â€œas they commonly appear in drawings.â€​par 	â€œAnd the man in red?â€​par 	â€œHim I know not.â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s the man from the stark house, the one who asked us the riddles. Heâ€™s not the Judge of the Dead, then?â€​par 	â€œThere are no drawings of the Judge of the Dead,â€
 	said Randolph. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s he doing with Melanieâ€™s sword? 
 	What have they been up to?â€​par 	â€œThat is Chryse,â€ said Randolph. â€œBeside Fence.â€​par 	Ted had been counting heads. â€œTheyâ€™re al there,â€​e said. â€œAl of ours.â€​par 	He and Randolph leaned together in the grass and listened to the vivid voice of the Dragon King greeting the Lords of the Dead as his dear cousins, and asking to what he owed this pleasure. One of them, in a lovely, lilting voice, answered, â€œTo Fence the Wizard, Kingâ€™s Counselor of the Hidden Land.â€​par 	â€œI might have known,â€ said Randolph. His voice was less raveled. 
 	Fence answered this assertion rather sharply, and in a louder voice than he usual y employed. â€œRather to the Princess Laura,â€​e said. â€œI pray you pardon me.â€​e pushed through the crowd and came swiftly across the trampled grass to Ted and Randolph, his tattered black robe floating behind him and no expression whatsoever on his round face. He dropped to his knees in front of them, squeezed Tedâ€™s shoulder in a grip that hurt, and said to Randolph, â€œLaura saw you fighting in a vision.â€​par 	â€œIt was Edward,â€ said Ted. â€œHe wanted to fight. 
 	What was Randolph supposed to do?â€​par 	Fenceâ€™s hold slackened. His eyes were on Randolph, not Ted. 
 	Randolph said, â€œIt began with Andrew, who would have spewed the whole sorry tale al over the court of the Dragon King, and who moreover did muddy our dealings with offering Ruth and Ted in marriage to the children of the Dragon King. Ted did interfere in that bout, whereupon Edward did turn on me.â€​par 	Fence stil had no expression. He said, â€œThereâ€™s other matter in thy face.â€​par 	â€œFence,â€ said Ted, â€œwhen I rendered myself harmless and ordered him to drop his sword, he did it.â€​par 	â€œFence,â€​aid Randolph, â€œlet be.â€​par 	Fence looked at him; then, â€œWith very great pleasure,â€ he said, and taking his hand from Tedâ€™s shoulder he put both arms around Randolph. Randolph leaned his forehead on Fenceâ€™s muddy robe and shut his eyes as if he never intended to look up again. 
 	Ted got up in a hurry and walked over to his little sister. 
 	â€œWe owe it al to you, huh?â€​e said. 
 	â€œSomebody,â€ said Laura, in an agonized whisper, â€œshould apologize to the Dragon King; and somebody else should separate Chryse and the red man, because they were fighting.â€​par 	â€œI think somebody should explain, not just apologize,â€​aid Ted, also in a whisper. 
 	â€œAre these new statues for my garden?â€ inquired the Dragon King. 
 	â€œMy lord, no,â€ said Laura, with more haste than courtesy. She cast a stricken glance in the direction of Fence, who was standing up now but stil talking to Randolph. â€œTheseâ€”weâ€”â€ She stopped. Ted saw that the problem was not a failure to speak, but the fear that she would say too much. He launched into a series of elaborate introductions. 
 	The Dragon King seemed to enjoy them. If Celia and Matthew disliked being presented to so fresh and elegant a monarch when they looked as if they had slept in a pile of leaves in the same clothes for a week, they managed not to sound like it. El en greeted the Dragon King sweetly and looked as if she were about to ask him a question. Ted hurriedly introduced Patrick, whom he had saved til last for fear of what he might say. 
 	Patrick bowed and said, â€œWeâ€™ve brought you, your grace, a little exercise in sorcery.â€​par 	â€œPatrick!â€​aid Celia. 
 	â€œShanâ€™s Ring,â€ said Patrick, disregarding her, â€œwhich we have just given to your good cousins there, hath rendered those two as statues. How, think you, might one best restore them?â€​par 	Fence and Randolph came across the grass in time to hear this. â€œMaster You-are-a-wizard-do-something,â€
 	said Fence to Patrick, â€œhold your tongue.â€​par 	Patrick grinned at him, and was quiet. Ted looked at the Dragon King, who, merciful y, looked like somebody at the intermission of a good play. Maybe he would be patient. 
 	â€œForgive us,â€ said Fence to him, â€œthat we burst upon you unwashed and unannounced.â€​par 	â€œThe Hidden Land,â€ said the Dragon King peaceful y, â€œis ful of surprises. What of your embassy?â€​par 	â€œYour grace, those two frozen there are our embassy,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œTheir forerunners were someways at cross purposes,â€​aid the Dragon King; the only note in his voice was one of inquiry. 
 	â€œIf they were,â€ said Fence, â€œyour perspicacity wil discover the reason forâ€™t more readily than mine.â€​par 	The Dragon King looked over Fenceâ€™s shoulder at Andrew, and nodded. â€œYou are gracious,â€ he said to Fence. â€œSo shal I be also. Do you take this garden and the servants therein, and the chairs, and what refreshment you wil , til you have plucked out the heart of this mystery. 
 	When your embassy is prepared, send me word and I wil receive it.â€​par 	Fence bowed to him. The Dragon King lifted one ringed hand and beckoned. Andrew pushed between Fence and Randolph as if they had been a couple of trees, and went with the Dragon King and a great part of the crowd back toward the inner castle. The Lords of the Dead brought up the rear. 
 	
 CHAPTER 30

 	THE two parties from the Hidden Land mil ed around uncertainly, and the elegant minions of the Dragon King drifted out of his formal garden, leaving them alone. 
 	â€œFence!â€ said Ted, feeling irrational y that everything would be al right now. â€œWhatâ€™s he going to do to Andrew?â€​par 	â€œGive him his instructions,â€ said Fence, very dryly. 
 	â€œDonâ€™t trouble yourself. Now. Is any part of your tale urgent?â€​par 	â€œWel , if youâ€™ve got the Lords of the Deadâ€”â€
 	began Ted. 
 	Randolph interrupted. â€œBelaparthalion is imâ€”â€​par 	â€œIn that guise,â€ said Fence, gesturing at the man in red. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s 
 	Belaparthalion?â€ 
 	said 
 	Ted. 
 	â€œButâ€”â€​par 	â€œWho did destroy the dragon-shape?â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œPatrick,â€ said Fence; and as Randolph made for Patrick he stepped in the way and added, â€œAt Chryseâ€™s instigation.â€​par 	â€œWhy, what a guardian is this!â€ said Randolph, bitterly. 
 	â€œIt was not at Chryseâ€™s instigation, damn it,â€
 	said Patrick, â€œexcept indirectly. Belaparthalion told me to do it. He said that he would get more power from Melanieâ€™s sword than he would lose by giving up the dragon-shape. Why the hel shouldnâ€™t I have let him out?â€​par 	â€œYou couldnâ€™t help it,â€ said Ruth. â€œItâ€™s this obsession you have with breaking large glowing globes.â€​par 	â€œShan,â€ said Ted to Patrick, â€œtold us to beware Melanieâ€™s sword, because it would show us our hearts in such a guise weâ€™d cut them out.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€ said Ruth, hol owly, â€œthatâ€™s what Belaparthalion did, isnâ€™t it?â€​par 	â€œNobody warned me, â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Fence. â€œWhat part of thy tale is urgent?â€​par 	â€œNone, I think, beside this agitation of thine,â€ said Randolph. â€œSit down, and speak of it.â€​par 	Fence folded himself to the ground, and the rest of them fol owed suit, forming a ragged circle. Fence said, â€œWe are here for that Laura saw Ted and Randolph fighting, and did fear the outcome.â€​par 	â€œYou might have helped prevent it,â€ said Ted, â€œif the Lords of the Dead took it into their heads to get Edward out of mine.â€​par 	â€œBut,â€ said Fence, â€œwe have now brought the two strongest guardians of the Hidden Land, helpless and at odds, into the very heart of the enemy.â€​par 	â€œThe enemy seems pretty harmless,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œHe is indolent,â€ said Fence, â€œand the workings of his heart are strange to us. But he is not harmless. Can we release Chryse and Belaparthalion, and reform the cause of their quarrel,  then al wil be wel . They wil perform their word to us, chastising the Dragon King; and we may depart in peace with al good protection. But do we release them merely to quarrel, it cannot come to good.â€​par 	â€œAl 
 	right,â€ 
 	said 
 	Ted, 
 	â€œwhatâ€™s 
 	their
 	quarrel?â€​par 	Fence explained it to him. Ted thought it sounded completely crazy; but he saw that Randolph took it seriously. 
 	â€œAl right,â€ said Ted. â€œIf Belaparthalion is somehow half an Outside Powerâ€”is Chryse right? Would he have to give up the guardianship of the Hidden Land? Who gave it him, anyway?â€​par 	â€œWho did so transform him?â€ said Randolph. 
 	â€œFor look you, an he did so himself, then he hath forfeited the terms of his guardianship. An it were done to him unknowing, thenâ€”â€​par 	â€œWhat we need,â€ said Fence, â€œis the author of these disturbances.â€​par 	â€œMelanie,â€​aid Ruth, flatly. 
 	â€œWhat?â€​aid Celia. 
 	So Randolph explained that. Matthew was shocked. Celia looked grim. El en made an astonished mouth. Fence and Laura looked at each other as if they suddenly understood something; Ted wondered what that was about. 
 	â€œRemember what the unicorn said, after the Hunt?â€
 	said Patrick to Ted. He, too, looked as if he understood something. 
 	â€œWe asked, who is Claudia, and it said, subtle, fair, and wise is she, but none of ours did send her.â€​par 	
 	There was a gloomy silence. 
 	Patrick said at last, â€œDo you suppose, if we give the Dragon King two statues for his garden, heâ€™l agree to leave us alone?â€​par 	El en sighed heavily; nobody else even looked up. Ted rubbed at his salt-encrusted eyes. His brain felt lamer than his body. They needed to find or fetch Claudia. Who and what was she, indeed? What did she want or care about; what shout would raise her? She was not dead; she was not in any of her houses they had been to in this country. 
 	â€œMaybe we should go home,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s where we keep finding Claudia, in the Secret House in our own world.â€​par 	â€œI thought you burned it down,â€​aid El en. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s a weary journey,â€ said Fence, â€œduring which we must leave these two hostage.â€​par 	â€œBesides,â€ said Laura, â€œif you use the swords, you wake up the Lords of the Dead, and they get nasty.â€​par 	â€œDo it quick, then, before they go back to sleep,â€
 	said Patrick. 
 	â€œThere are other Outside Powers,â€ said Fence, rustily, â€œharder to wake, and harder to lay to rest again.â€​par 	â€œWhy a weary journey?â€ said Ted. â€œYou got here fast enough.â€​par 	â€œWe paid the Lords of the Dead with Shanâ€™s Ring to bring us here,â€ said Patrick. â€œWeâ€™re running out of merchandise.â€​par 	â€œWeâ€™ve got Cedricâ€™s flute,â€ said Laura. She looked suddenly, below the filthy, tangled hair and the scratches, alert. â€œIs this the end it wil save us at?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s a pretty calm end,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œWhat music wil cal Claudia?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œGod knows,â€ said Ruth. â€œNobody knows her, thatâ€™s the problem; we havenâ€™t the faintest idea what sheâ€™s like.â€ She looked up suddenly. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ she said. â€œYou know her. Think. You were by her night and day, you said, forâ€”â€​par 	â€œAnd I never divined what she was,â€ said Randolph. 
 	He looked her squarely in the face. â€œThat is what I said.â€​par 	â€œYou must have divined something,â€ said Ruth, staring squarely back at him. Tears stood in her eyes, but her face was merely impatient. â€œThink, wonâ€™t you? 
 	Good grief, if even a shape-shifter gives away his nature no matter what his outward form, surely she must have given away something to you?â€​par 	Randolph rubbed at his forehead, streaking al the dust and sweat in a new direction. He looked up and said painful y, â€œWhen we would meet, there was a tune Iâ€™d whistle, that she would know who approached. At least there can be no harm in Lauraâ€™s playing it?â€​par 	â€œWhat was it?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œâ€˜he Minstrel Boy,â€™â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Laura, disentangling the flute from her tunic, said, â€œShe showed up once, when I whistled that.â€​par 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Fence. â€œDo you think on the historical layer of that song. One great harp wil sing thy praise and one strong sword defend thee. The harp is praise and one strong sword defend thee. The harp is Chryse, the sword Belaparthalion. And would it not suit Melanieâ€™s humor, that wished il to the Hidden Land, to use that song as her emblem?â€​par 	Randolph looked sideways at him and smiled, not very successful y. â€œNo doubt,â€​e said. 
 	â€œOkay,â€​aid Laura, â€œIâ€™m ready.â€​par 	â€œPlay, then,â€ said Fence, â€œas wel as you are able.â€​par 	She played it through once. Ted lay back in the cool grass and closed his eyes. The sound of the flute was very sweet, and al the dim noises of the Dragon Kingâ€™s castle died along the distances of the song. Laura played it through again, and Ruth, who had a pleasant voice, rather like Tedâ€™s motherâ€™s, began to sing. The others joined her, one by one. Ted had forgotten why they were doing this; but it was balm after the confused, stiff courtesies and pretended jol ity of the evening before. He did not sit up, but he sang too. Laura played the song through for a third time, and the singers managed the second verse in something very like unison. And Ted looked idly through the green blur of the grass, past the stil form of Chryse, around the bend of one of the drum towers, and saw a dark and slender woman in a red dress walking rapidly toward them over the grass. 
 	Ted thought she moved like an otter. 
 	Ted sat up with a jolt. â€œLook,â€​e said. 
 	She seemed to be taking a long time to get there. Ted wondered if they should al lol on the grass like this and watch her come. He felt no impulse to go and greet her. The last time he had seen her, he had hit her in the stomach, and broken the magic windows of her house, and started a conflagration therein that he stil hoped had reduced it to rubble. Claudia walked past Chryse as if Chryse were in fact some fanciful statue of the Dragon Kingâ€™s, and was within two feet of Laura when Randolph stood up and went toward her. 
 	She smiled at him. â€œOh, whistle,â€ he said, â€œand Iâ€™l come to you, my lad.â€​par 	Randolph neither smiled nor answered her; it seemed to be al he could do to sustain her cat-eyed gaze. She moved a little away from him and tilted her head at Chryse and Belaparthalion. The black hair fel down her back like water. 
 	â€œYour harp and your sword want mending,â€​he said. 
 	â€œHow came they broken?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œWherefore should I tel thee?â€​par 	Randolph said, hardly above a whisper, â€œFor the sake of what lay between us when we were innocent.â€​par 	Her face did not change. â€œI am five hundred years old,â€ she said. â€œWhen I was young, I had twelve fair lovers, the which I hated passing wel . And lately in the summer, because my plans did draw to their conclusion, I did have you.â€​par 	â€œTo what conclusion,â€ said Randolph, more strongly, â€œhave they come?â€​par 	Claudia, who was Melanie, was silent for a very long time. 
 	Then she said, â€œThat I should answer your question.â€
 	She walked a few steps farther, surveyed the seated representatives of the Hidden Land, and sat herself down on the edge of the Dragon Kingâ€™s dais. Randolph came quietly around the outside of the circle and knelt in the grass behind Fence and Ruth. 
 	â€œThe twelfth of my fair lovers,â€ said Melanie, â€œwas Shan. And we did think to have the moon and the stars in our hands. But he did betray me, in every way that it was possible for him to do; and then he did escape me; for his betrayal was a joy to the Lords of the Dead, and they did admit him where I could not go. Now, while he lived, your little country was his dearest care; and he did almost refuse the great mercy of death granted him, for that it might leave you open to my malice. And he did therefore set safeguards over you. The royal family of the Hidden Land hath his blood; the libraries of the Hidden Land have his learning; the rivers of the Hidden Land run with his songs. I have taken from you every safeguard you possessed, save these two here. 
 	Between them I have set a quarrel shal harm one or both, when Shanâ€™s smal meddling spel is removed.â€​par 	â€œCan you remedy that quarrel?â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œOh, aye,â€ said Melanie. â€œBelaparthalion wil not be as he was; but heâ€™l guard you wel stil , an he be spared toâ€™t.â€​par 	Randolph did not say, And wil you spare him? He did not say anything. He knelt in the grass in his green doublet with tissue of gold, and laid one hand on Fenceâ€™s shoulder, and looked at Melanie as Ted had seen his cousin Jennifer, who both adored and was al ergic to strawberries, look at a bowl heaped ful of them. 
 	Ted swal owed. â€œHow came Belaparthalion to this pass?â€​par 	Melanie had not, throughout her recitation, looked at anybody but Randolph. But now she turned her eyes on Ted, who felt as if he were being stared at by a basilisk. 
 	â€œI gave him unicornâ€™s blood,â€​he said. 
 	â€œNo,â€​aid Fence. 
 	
 	â€œOh, yes,â€ said Melanie. â€œIt kil eth them not; thatâ€™s a tale of the Blue Sorcerers. Over a mundane creature, the power of the unicornâ€™s blood is to make it sorcerous, and that sorcery is expressed in immortality. 
 	Over an arcane creature, the power of the unicornâ€™s blood is to make it otherworldly. Hence Belaparthalion became an Outside Power.â€​par 	Matthew sat forward suddenly. â€œAnd the post of the Judge of the Dead was empty.â€ He seemed to remember to whom he was speaking, and cut his historical enthusiasm short. 
 	â€œIt was,â€​aid Melanie. 
 	â€œSo,â€ said Randolph to Fence, â€œBelaparthalion forfeits not his guardianship.â€​par 	â€œIt would like Chryse wel , had she devised it, that he must protect the Hidden Land â€™gainst himself also,â€
 	said Melanie. â€œIn a hundred years, or two, the thought wil be pleasing to her.â€​par 	â€œThe thought that her fel ow guardian hath taken unicornâ€™s blood wil not please her in ten thousand years,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œShe is too proud,â€​aid Melanie, shrugging. 
 	Patrick said, â€œWhy are you tel ing us al this?â€​par 	â€œThereâ€™s another thing,â€​aid Melanie, looking at him briefly. Her voice altered and grew light, incredibly, with laughter. â€œAl this I did in despite of Shan. How, do I complete my plots, I shal never say to Shan, â€˜hus did I; thus didst thouâ€™; for the Lords of the Dead wil never let me in. An I desist, and they do let me in, for Shan Iâ€™l have no tale. You did swear me, my lad, many several sorts of aid and comfort. What remedy hast thou for this il ?â€​par 	She looked back at Randolph, who did not move. Into the charged, unnatural silence fel the ordinary sound of footsteps. Ted wrenched his head around, and saw three of the Lords of the Dead coming purposeful y in their direction. 
 	Melanie saw them too. Her calm face, lightly etched with amusement at her own dilemma, set suddenly into fierce lines. But the Lords of the Dead, arriving at the edge of the circle, did not speak to her. â€œLord Randolph,â€ said the middle one, in its lilting voice. 
 	Fence flinched under Randolphâ€™s tightened hand, and then laid his own hand over it. But Randolph stood up. 
 	â€œWhat would you?â€​e said. 
 	â€œYour time of grace hath been long, and you have walked above the earth with the one whose life you bought,â€ said the right-hand one, in its austere voice. 
 	â€œSince we have come hither, we thought to bring you back.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m ready,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œYou God damn wel are not!â€ said Ruth, scrambling to her feet. Fence got up also, but said nothing. 
 	â€œIf there is dissent,â€​aid the left-hand Lord, in its rich voice, â€œwe have a thing to suggest. Edward Fairchild, for whom you did in fact bargain to exchange your life, proveth troublesome under the earth. We wil send him back also.â€​par 	Ted in his turn got up. The sound of his heart in his ears was louder than it had been when he fought Randolph. His breath fought with his throat. He thought very careful y of Shan, with his quick perceptions and his wealth of strange tales. He thought of what changes might have happened, with the Lords of the Dead gone and Shan in possession of his brooch. 
 	â€œRandolph,â€ said Ted. â€œIf youâ€™ve got Edward, you donâ€™t need me. You stay; Iâ€™l go.â€​par 	â€œYou God damn wel wil not!â€ cried Laura, bounding up and letting Cedricâ€™s flute rol across the short grass. 
 	â€œThis wonâ€™t serve,â€​aid Randolph to Ted. 
 	â€œNeither wil your departure,â€​aid Fence. 
 	â€œFence, a bargain was made. If any deserve this departure, I do so. Who shal go else? Wil you lose Ted, whose crime is bright imagination?â€​par 	Fenceâ€™s round face, as it had once or twice since Ted had known him, sharpened suddenly, so that you could see the bones of it. He opened his mouth. 
 	â€œNo,â€​aid Randolph. â€œNot thou.â€​par 	â€œ I know!â€ said Ruth, with an artificial brightness tinged with genuine hysteria. â€œLetâ€™s all go!â€​par 	â€œOh, proud Death,â€ said Patrick to the Lords of the Dead, not much more calmly. â€œWhat feast is toward in thine eternal cel ?â€​par 	â€œNone,â€​aid Melanie behind them. 
 	They turned and looked at her. She had slid off the dais and now walked up to stand between Ruth and Randolph. 
 	Ruth shied away from her like a startled cat, and then moved closer again. Randolph stood stil . 
 	â€œWil you have me?â€ said Melanie to the Lord of the Dead. 
 	There was another of those silences. Ruth looked sideways at Melanie, swal owed, and seemed to be about to speak. The rich-voiced Lord said, â€œEdward Fairchild must stay hence.â€​par 	â€œThatâ€™s naught to me,â€​aid Melanie. 
 	â€œIs it not?â€​aid Celia. 
 	Ted remembered, with a shock almost as great as the original discovery had been, that Melanie, to whom it was naught if Edward stayed or went, had put him there in the first place. 
 	â€œHe is stil troublesome,â€​aid the lilting voice. 
 	The rich one said, â€œLet Melanie speak with him.â€​par 	â€œOh, God, â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Melanie looked at her. â€œVex not thy thoughts wiâ€™that,â€ she said. â€œConsider him.â€ She inclined her head at Randolph, and looked around, picking out the five visitors. â€œYou children,â€ she said. â€œHave you a use, or a fondness, for this lord?â€​par 	She was looking at Ted. â€œI have,â€ said Ted. 
 	â€œBoth.â€​par 	â€œDespite that he did murder Wil iam?â€​par 	â€œHe didnâ€™t have any good choices,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œClaudia,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œWho is she?â€ said Melanie, without looking at him. 
 	â€œRuth Eleanora. Have you a use or a fondness for Lord Randolph?â€​par 	â€œBoth,â€​aid Ruth, between her teeth. 
 	â€œLaura Kimberly.â€​par 	â€œBoth,â€​aid Laura. 
 	
 	â€œEl en Jennifer.â€​par 	â€œA very great fondness,â€ said El en, scowling. 
 	â€œWhat kind of a trick is this?â€​par 	â€œNone,â€ said Melanie. â€œI have misjudged my powers, or yours. I could not make you my creatures; you would not be my al ies; you are caught in the web in a manner I did not mean, that is displeasing to me. Be quiet. 
 	Patrick Terrence. Have you a use or fondness for Lord Randolph?â€​par 	Oh, Lord, thought Ted. Edward said, quite clearly, The players cannot keep counsel, theyâ€™ll tell all. 
 	â€œI,â€ said Patrick, â€œhave neither use nor fondness for any of you; but keep in mind that the Lords of the Dead have much less of either for Randolph. I want him more than they do.â€​par 	â€œYou five,â€ said Melanie, â€œI did wrong without cause. These others I did wrong with, it may be, insufficient cause; but cause there was. An Randolph wil serve you better above the earth, Iâ€™l take his place below it.â€​par 	Randolph stood up. â€œMelanie,â€​e said. 
 	â€œWhat you have done,â€ said Melanie, smiling at him, â€œyou may recompense by remembering it. Make this Edward a King. Be his Regent. An thatâ€™s not suffering enough, tel al I have done to High Castle, and comfort what uproar fol oweth.â€​par 	Randolph looked at Fence, and back at Melanie. He was extremely white. He said, â€œWhen two such warring teachers do bid me read in the same book, what may I do but obey?â€​par 	â€œNothing,â€ said Melanie, and she walked from between Ruth and Randolph to the Lords of the Dead. 
 	The 
 	austere 
 	one 
 	said, 
 	â€œDesirest 
 	thou 
 	no
 	preparation?â€​par 	Melanie looked back at the rest of them. â€œThe voices of your others,â€​he said. â€œHow troublesome?â€​par 	â€œEdward was extremely so,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œLady Ruth gave me some bad moments,â€ said Ruth. Ted heard in her voice an echo of his own tone, dazed and automatic. 
 	â€œAn I speak to them, wil you keep them or let them go?â€​par 	â€œKeep them,â€ said Ted. If this was the closest he could come to restoring Edward to life, then he would do it. 
 	Ruth nodded; so did Laura. Patrick looked thoughtful, which was normal; but El en, too, hesitated and stared at the ground before she nodded. 
 	â€œWhat else you would know,â€ said Melanie, â€œseek in the house by the Gray Lake. I have writ a great part of my plans, if not of my accomplishments, therein.â€
 	She hesitated; Ted had never seen her look anything like uncertain. â€œThere are cats therein,â€​he said. 
 	â€œAre they more to you than those children were?â€
 	said Celia. Ted saw that she was so angry she could not even raise her voice; but very faintly, behind the fury, was a genuine desire to understand. 
 	Melanie must have heard it too. Her tone was not placatory; but it was not scornful, either. â€œI had no children,â€​he said. 
 	Celia only looked at her. â€œFence,â€ she said. â€œIs this vengeance? Is this justice? She deservesâ€”â€​par 	â€œUse every man after his desert,â€ said Fence, â€œand who shal scape whipping?â€​par 	Celia began to say something; Randolph touched her arm and said, â€œHe speaks of me.â€​par 	Celia looked not at him but at Matthew. â€œBelow the earth,â€ said Matthew, â€œshe wil have what she deserves.â€​par 	â€œYes, she wil ,â€ said Ted. â€œWe saw those children, Celia. Edward wil deal with her. Heâ€™s changed.â€​par 	 Into something rich and strange,  said Edward, and chuckled. 
 	Melanie might have heard him too. She had been watching the discussion steadily, but now she turned away too quickly for a good dramatic effect, and said to the Lords of the Dead, â€œMy preparations are done.â€ They bowed to her; she did them a courtesy; they began to walk away. 
 	Against the bright roses and the bril iant grass, their sober brown dress looked darker. 
 	Melanie spun suddenly and said to the gaping crowd of King Edwardâ€™s court, â€œFor your guardians, sing them a song. For yourselvesâ€”speak and write truly of me or you wil be the worse forâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œWe wil ,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	Melanie picked up her red skirts and ran lightly, like an otter, to catch up with the Lord of the Dead. 
 	
 CHAPTER 31

 	IN the Hidden Land, November came in with malicious winds and a downpour of icy rain that ticked against the windows like something trying to get in. The visitors to that country reacted to it each according to his nature. El en made friends with Celia and Matthewâ€™s children. 
 	Nobody had told them what was going on, but El en managed to get out of John, who was trusting and voluble, that while none of them real y liked the Princess Laura, they thought her much improved of late. 
 	â€œExcept sheâ€™s someways timid,â€ said Margaret. 
 	â€œWhat hath made her so?â€​par 	â€œLooking on the Lords of the Dead,â€ said El en; which was essential y true. It was her intention to make Margaret respect Laura, and not to take too much time over it. 
 	She had less influence over the fates of the others. She had decided that Ruth should marry Randolph, but she knew better than to interfere. Ruth did not come sighing to her little sister with confidences; she just cal ed herself names. 
 	Randolph would have to do something, that was al ; and El en had had enough of even seeming to make Randolph do anything. As for Patrick, he should go home again. He didnâ€™t belong here. Ted did. So did Ruth and Laura. So did El en herself. Their parents wouldnâ€™t like it. Patrick was Motherâ€™s favorite, but her father, however vaguely, was going to miss his daughters. Patrick might miss his sisters, too; but that would serve him right. 
 	El en thought over whom she would miss, and scowled. 
 	
 	Laura climbed the dusty steps of the North Tower at dusk on a day of cold rain. The door to the uppermost room was open this time. The gold light flooding out of it was kinder than sunshine. Laura stopped in the doorway, regarding the Crystal of Earth. Claudia, who had moved it hither and yon, preventing Patrick from breaking it, preserving it for the Hidden Land, could just as wel have broken it herself and had done with it. Laura had read, slowly and painful y, muttering under her breath and applying frequently to Ted for the hard words, Melanieâ€™s account of what she had done with regard to this object. 
 	The little globe Melanie had set here for Patrick to break had not held nothing. It had held their game, the Secret Country of their stubborn and flawed imaginations, the Secret Country into which no Claudia had ever stirred a meddling finger; the shal ows to which the Hidden Land was a whole burgeoning ocean. Laura stil sometimes thought she preferred the shal ows. She had not asked Patrick what he thought; Patrick, who had fought a practice session with Melanieâ€™s sword, and had it taken away from him by an exasperated Fence and a horrified Randolph; and who had, perhaps, as Shan said, had his heart shown to him in such a guise that he wanted to cut it out. And yet he had never shown, in any way except his always being there to play with them, that the Secret Country had a place in his heart at al . 
 	He was harder to understand than Melanie. And he was going to be hard to live with, if they had to stay here. 
 	Â 
 	Patrick was busy reading. He finished Shanâ€™s journals; and was not satisfied. He read as much of Melanieâ€™s voluminous writings as he could stand, filching them from Ted and Fence whenever those two gave up, as they did about once a day; and was not satisfied. He stayed up late making lists; he paced around the dusty corridors and the swept hal s and the wet rose garden, thinking until his head hurt; and was not satisfied. 
 	Some things he had figured out. Melanie had expected, when she brought Patrick and his relations into the Hidden Land, to be in almost complete control of them. She had intended to move them to do any of a number of things that would serve the double purpose of making Fence and Randolph unhappy and endangering the Hidden Land. She had also intended to merge them with the dead children, both so that the masquerade should not be discovered and so that it should be, in some measure, the real royal children who had committed whatever crimes she had in mind for them. She had had no control over the real children; she had expected to have more over their dead voices. 
 	But both Shanâ€™s Ring and Melanieâ€™s own sword had awakened the Lords of the Dead, one by one; and while they were awake, however disgruntled, they would notice and retaliate if she tampered more than delicately with anyone in their domain. Melanie had not intended either Shanâ€™s Ring or the sword to have this property of waking the Outside Powers. Patrick could not discover where said property had come from, which was one of the things vexing him. 
 	Another was that al these people and accounts contradicted one another. You might expect Melanie to lie of course; or perhaps just to have a very different idea of what had gone on than Shan had. You might expect the Outside Powers or the unicorns to sidestep the truth, or to have a viewpoint so different that nothing they said would ever make sense. But you would certainly expect the scholars of Heathwil Library to have made something of al these contradictions. 
 	It also bothered him not to know why Melanie had been so far off in her estimation of how much control she would have over them al once she got them into the Hidden Land. 
 	Melanie herself seemed to think that the problem was a result of their having found the swords and stumbled in before she was ready for them; which had happened in Patrickâ€™s case because of a dog named Shan, and in Ted and Lauraâ€™s because their cousins had been playing a game they loved as much as Ted and Laura loved the Secret Country. Fence and Randolph found these points significant. Patrick found them irritating. It seemed to him more likely that Melanie had failed because he and his relations had been stronger of imagination, or purer of heart, or just stubborner of spirit, than she had thought them. Or she might have been like Aristotle, possessed of a very fine mind and a set of erroneous assumptions about the universe. Maybe her philosophy of magic was as flawed, in its way, as Andrewâ€™s had been. 
 	Andrew vexed Patrick too. He had been so besotted on his so-cal ed sister that he had done anything she asked him to, even when he knew she thought it was magical and therefore should have thought it useless. He had hoped, Melanie thought, to win her from her false philosophies by slow degrees. And she had used this hope. Andrew had thought that he and she and Lady Ruth were engaged in secret negotiations with the Dragon King to bring about a sensible peace, instead of a disastrous magical battle. The details of this plot were not available to Patrickâ€™s questing mind. 
 	He final y sought out Laura, who was the only one of his relations not constantly occupied, and asked her to help him go over his information, in case she knew anything he didnâ€™t. 
 	â€œWhy?â€​aid Laura, sharply for her. 
 	Patrick hesitated. It was irrational. But then, this country was irrational. â€œI said,â€ he said, â€œthat I wasnâ€™t going home again until I understood what was going on here. And having said it, I donâ€™t think I can, until I do.â€​par 	â€œOh?â€ said Laura. â€œSo you arenâ€™t planning to break the Crystal of Earth any time soon?â€​par 	Patrick stared at her. He was not in fact planning to break it at al ; but he was not, either, planning to disabuse anybody who had it of the notion that he might be dangerous. 
 	â€œNo,â€​e said. â€œNot any time soon.â€​par 	Laura grinned. â€œI remember what you said in Australia,â€ she said. â€œPrincess Laura says, we should not pretend to understand the world only by the intel ect; we apprehend it just as much by feeling.â€​par 	â€œCarl Jung said that!â€​aid Patrick, furiously. 
 	â€œYou might think about it anyway,â€​aid Laura. 
 	The King of the Hidden Land received a letter from Lord Andrew. Andrew had stayed behind in the Court of the Dragon King. This, Ted had managed to figure out, counted as the vengeance with which Ted was supposed to reward oath-breaking. And certainly to leave a man who feared magic alone in a court of shape-shifters was punishment enough, whatever Andrew had done or contemplated doing. 
 	The letter said nothing of al this, but contained implicitly the assumption that Andrew had been left as a liaison and observer. 
 	
 	Nobody knew what Chryse and Belaparthalion had said to the Dragon King, but he looked far from benign when they finished saying it. Looking thus, he had made to Ted a speech so flowery and convoluted that Ted had not understood a word of it. Fence, consulted during the journey home, said it contained a promise of explicit treaties of peace, and the forwarding of damages for the late war. 
 	Andrewâ€™s letter, opening with brisk formality, detailed the treaties. Ted would have to show them to Fence and Randolph. If they contained innuendos or double meanings, he could not find any. It might be that their language was so plain that it was subject to too many interpretations. It appeared that the Dragon King had agreed to leave the Hidden Land alone except in the case of three particular kinds of provocation, none of which sounded either possible or probable of occurrence, in return for nothing whatsoever. 
 	He was also sending north a staggering amount in jewels and gold and fine cloth. Ted wondered uneasily if the shape-shifters of that court could turn themselves into emeralds. 
 	Andrewâ€™s letter contained a postscript. â€œMy lord Edward: My philosophy altereth daily in this place of shadows. My heart is as it was always; wherefore, my liege, I do humbly beg your leave to sojourn here yet a little time. If by my return your grace shal have departed to your other realms, take with you my good wishes for your safety and happiness.â€​par 	That was clear enough. He hated it down there, and if he could possibly manage it he was going to stay there until Ted and the others had gone home. If they ever did. And that â€œIf,â€ of course, was the payment made by the Hidden Land. The Hidden Land had lost its royal children and received in return a motley and reluctant crew bent, if not on abandoning it, at least on making sure they had the means to do so. The Hidden Land had lost its dragon and received a patched-up composite capable of nobody knew what. 
 	None of these reverses had profited the Dragon King, but in that coin just the same the Hidden Land was paying for the Dragon Kingâ€™s friendship. And after al , the Dragon King had gotten an afternoonâ€™s amusement out of it. 
 	Ted felt oppressed. The upper hierarchies of the Secret Country dismayed him. Everywhere you turned there were magical creatures of capricious ability whose power of distinguishing between right and wrong was less developed than a politicianâ€™s. Recent events had shown that one was not exactly at their mercy; but one was always having to watch out for them. For the first time, he thought he understood how Patrick felt. 
 	He presented this fact to Patrick later that day, at supper. 
 	Patrick heard him out gravely, but al he said was, â€œConsider the Second Law of Thermodynamics.â€​par 	It came to Ted, with a more than minor shock, that he was going to miss Patrick. Not his part in the game; not even his genius for improvisation. Just Patrick. And if he felt like that, how would Patrick feel when he went homeâ€”if anybody could ever go homeâ€”and al the rest of them stayed? 
 	If al the rest of them were staying. Ted did not know what he was going to do about his parents. He had thought of sending them a letter by Patrick, who was such an unlikely witness to al these events that they might believe him. 
 	Patrickâ€™s own parents would probably haul him off to a psychiatrist. 
 	Ted took a savage bite of bread. He would worry about al this when they found the way out. Tomorrow,  said Edward, not altogether approvingly, is another day. 
 	Â 
 	On the sixteenth day of the awful weather, which had been broken twice, once by a day of watery sunshine and once by an inexplicable thunderstorm, Ruth took her courage in both hands and went looking for Randolph. 
 	He was not in the Council Room, where Ted and Fence had buried the long table in books and grinned vaguely when she poked her head in the door. He was not in his own room, though the door stood open and a yel ow dog thumped its tail from the hearth, where the fire was bright and new. He was, inevitably, in Fenceâ€™s tower, so that by the time she knocked on the door her courage had leaked away with her breath but she was bolstered by the belief that he was not there, and as soon as he had failed to answer she could be comfortably irate and give up for the day. 
 	â€œCome in,â€​is voice cal ed. 
 	Ruth shoved her hair back and pushed the door open. 
 	Randolph, in two cloaks and a blue velvet hat and a pair of fingerless gloves, was also immersed in books. He looked up with the expression of pleased inquiry he reserved for Fence; it slid into blankness and then into a pleasant neutrality. 
 	â€œIâ€™m sorry to bother you,â€ said Ruth. â€œBut thereâ€™s something I canâ€™t remember, and Iâ€™d rather ask you than Meredith.â€​par 	Randolph put his pen back into the ink bottle and slid his hands into his sleeves. His breath made faint clouds in the air. 
 	
 	â€œFor 
 	heavenâ€™s 
 	sake!â€ 
 	said 
 	Ruth. 
 	â€œYouâ€™ve got a splendid fire in your own room for the dog to get spoiled by.â€​he made for the fireplace. 
 	â€œIt burneth not except by Fenceâ€™s command,â€
 	said Randolph. â€œThereâ€™s a quilt, if youâ€™re cold.â€​par 	â€œNever mind,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s the question?â€​par 	â€œDid you promise Meredith weâ€™d be married before the year was out, or before a year was out?â€​par 	Randolph grinned. â€œA year,â€​e said. 
 	â€œAl right. Now look. What are the choices?â€​par 	â€œTo send thee home, can we contrive it,â€ said Randolph. â€œTo tel al to Meredith and beg her release us from this bond. To marry, and make the best of it.â€​par 	â€œIf you send me home,â€ said Ruth, â€œIâ€™l be safe, but as far as Meredith is concerned, youâ€™l have broken your word.â€​par 	Randolph looked blank, and then extremely uneasy. 
 	â€œWe might marry first,â€ he said. â€œThen send thee home. Thou wouldst be safe, as thou sayest.â€​par 	â€œBut Iâ€™d be married, â€ said Ruth. â€œTo somebody Iâ€™d never see again. So would you.â€​par 	Randolph shrugged. â€œFor me, that makes no matter,â€ he said. â€œâ€™Twould keep me from the plague of marriage for policy.â€​par 	â€œAnd you wouldnâ€™t, you think, when I was gone, ever want to marry anybody for any other reason?â€​par 	
 	Randolph was silent. The rain clattered on the windows and the wind thumped the tower like an irate child kicking a locked door. Ruth was cold. The scolding she had given him for sitting here with the fire out replayed itself in the middle of her mind and sounded sil ier every time it went by. 
 	â€œNo,â€ said Randolph. He gestured at Fenceâ€™s footstool. â€œWilt thou sit down and recover from the staircase?â€​par 	Ruth sat, because she felt shaky. 
 	â€œNow,â€ said Randolph, â€œif thou thinkst to marry at home, Iâ€™d not prevent it. It was not what Meredith had in her mind when she did extract this promise; but â€™tis possible to marry for a term only; for five years, or ten.â€​par 	â€œFive,â€ said Ruth, â€œwould do me fine, and prevent my enacting some fol y in my rash and splenitive youth.â€​par 	â€œWel , then, weâ€™l doâ€™t so,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œNot,â€ said Ruth, â€œthat I have anybody in mind at home.â€ And that, of course, she ought not to have said. 
 	Randolph looked at her with a kind of thoughtful puzzlement. 
 	â€œHave you not, then?â€ said Randolph. â€œAnd yet you said to the Dragon King that your heart was given already.â€​par 	â€œIsnâ€™t it permissible to lie to oneâ€™s enemies?â€​par 	â€œDid you so?â€​par 	She had done enough lying to Randolph to last her a lifetime. â€œNo,â€​aid Ruth. â€œI didnâ€™t lie.â€​par 	Randolph pushed back the chair and stood up. Ruth watched him with trepidation. He looked like somebody who was about to do something foolhardy for the sheer joy of it. 
 	His face was not happy, precisely, but held rather the beginnings of wildness: El en, aged seven, just before she threw her favorite dol into the pond because the thought of Patrickâ€™s face when she took up his dare held more attraction than the dol did. It was not a matter of spite, but the choice of a brief delight over a longer, settled content. 
 	Glory over length of days, thought Ruth suddenly, and pressed her hands together, hard. 
 	Randolph walked over to the window and contemplated the darkness. Ruth could hear the little hiss of the torches burning. He was, no doubt, burying his crazy impulse, whatever it was. In the end, she couldnâ€™t stand it and spoke to him. 
 	â€œWhat are you looking at?â€​he said. 
 	Randolph turned and leaned on the window frame. Above his dark head the carved story of Shan gleamed dul y. 
 	â€œFaintheartedness,â€ he said. He walked across the room, and with no particular flourish, knelt on the floor a yard away from where she sat on the stool. â€œLetâ€™s put this matter on some better footing,â€ he said. â€œRuth. If I should ask thee, wouldst thou marry me?â€​par 	Ruthâ€™s breath clogged in her throat. â€œFaint heart,â€ she said in a strangled voice, â€œnever won fair lady.â€​par 	Randolph smiled. â€œWilt thou marry me?â€​e said. 
 	â€œSo much,â€ said Ruth, â€œfor the faint heart. 
 	Now.â€​par 	â€œThe fair lady,â€​aid Randolph, â€œis here.â€​par 	
 	â€œWait,â€ said Ruth. â€œIâ€™m sure you can make pretty speeches. Donâ€™t do it yet. Iâ€™d hate them to go around and around in your head for weeks afterward. 
 	Randolph. I would love to marry you. Donâ€™t say anything.  I am sixteen years old and I have a brain ful of turnips. I donâ€™t know when people marry in this country, but in mine they do it at twenty, or later.â€ She paused because she was out of breath. 
 	Randolph had not moved. He said gravely, â€œIâ€™m fond of turnips.â€​par 	â€œOh, go to!â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œI understand you,â€ said Randolph. â€œIt may be wise. Four years would settle many matters. We would marry, to fulfil our word; you must then do as you wil .â€​par 	â€œI could go to Heathwil Library and study something,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	Randolph said, â€œAn we do find the means to send you home?â€​par 	â€œI 
 	was 
 	thinking 
 	of 
 	staying,â€ 
 	said 
 	Ruth, 
 	â€œanyway.â€ There. She had said it. What would Patrick say? She added, â€œIf theyâ€™l have me. I just wish you could meet my parents.â€​par 	â€œSo,â€ said Randolph. â€œThis rubble being cleared, whatâ€™s thy answer, lady?â€​par 	â€œIâ€™l marry you,â€​aid Ruth. 
 	The fireplace bloomed suddenly with yel ow light, and warmth flowed over them. â€œI am sorry I was so long,â€
 	said Fenceâ€™s mild voice. â€œTed and I have found what we sought.â€​par 	
 	Ruth and Randolph looked at him. Fence, his arms ful of books and a too-large blue cap on his head, peered at them from under it with a gaze as sharp as the Nightmare Grass. 
 	He said to Randolph, â€œShe is too young.â€​par 	Randolph said, â€œFour years.â€​par 	Fence smiled, and dumped the books on the nearest chest, and looked at them again. Ruth couldnâ€™t have moved, but she thought Randolphâ€™s knees must be getting sore. 
 	â€œShal I give you solitude,â€ said Fence, â€œor a celebratory glass of wine?â€​par 	Ruth looked at Randolph, and her bones turned to water. 
 	â€œWine,â€​he said, â€œan it please you.â€​par 	Â 
 	It was the seventeenth of November, and stil raining. The Council Room was ful of books, but somebody had cleared enough chairs for the assembled company. They left Fence the chair at the head of the table, but he did not take it. He was blazing with excitement, as none of them had ever seen him. When they were seated, and almost before they were quiet, he began to speak, without preliminaries. 
 	â€œWere any of us who sought this knowledge,â€ he said, looking at Patrick, â€œof an experimental temper, we had had it long since. But we have burrowed this month in Shanâ€™s writings, and Melanieâ€™s, and then asked again for Ted and Lauraâ€™s account of how they did arrive here, in the Mirror Room, sans any sword.â€ He looked at Ted. 
 	Ted said, â€œPurgos Aipos is an old name for High Castle.â€​par 	
 	â€œOh, good grief!â€ said Ruth. â€œYou put your hand on the mirror, and you say, â€˜psinthionâ€™; and you come out in the stark manâ€™s house.â€​par 	â€œAnd then,â€ said Patrick, sourly, â€œyou can just take the first flight to Australia. No problem.â€​par 	â€œHold a moment,â€ said Fence. â€œPatrick; El en; Ruth. Hath your house any name?â€​par 	They looked at him blankly. Their parents didnâ€™t name things. Ted said, â€œMy father cal s it the Coriander Castle.â€​par 	â€œWhat?â€​aid Ruth. 
 	â€œCoriander,â€ said Ted, â€œstands for hidden merit.â€​par 	â€œHe would,â€ said Patrick. â€œAnd itâ€™s going to work too; you know it.â€​par 	â€œWhen shal we essay this?â€ said Fence. â€œNeed you a few daysâ€™ grace, to find if you wil go or stay?â€​par 	Nobody answered him. Fence said, â€œYou must know that you are, every one, most heartily welcome to stay.â€​par 	â€œWe wil lose Patrick,â€​aid Randolph. 
 	â€œIâ€™m afraid you wil ,â€ said Patrick. â€œI find I prefer the Second Law of Thermodynamics. It doesnâ€™t talk back.â€​par 	â€œWhat about the civil war?â€​aid Laura. â€œIf Prince Patrick turns up missing?â€​par 	â€œItâ€™s time for truth,â€ said Fence. â€œAndrew, mark you, who was to begin this war, is away, and hath had in the interim an education. Fear us not.â€​par 	
 	â€œI donâ€™t think,â€ said El en, â€œthat anybody needs time for cogitation.â€​par 	â€œWait just a moment,â€ said Ruth. â€œIs al this glumness justified? Who says we can do this only once?â€​par 	â€œThe Dragon King,â€​aid Fence. 
 	Ted put his head in his hands. The three particular kinds of provocation, impossible of occurrence. 
 	â€œThe use of these mirrors,â€ said Fence, â€œas the use of al of the magical artifacts of Melanie, doth awake the Outside Powers. The first use troubleth their sleep; the second maketh them to stir; and the third doth send them roaring.â€​par 	Apsinthion had told them that, thought Ted; and they had not understood him. 
 	â€œSo,â€ said Patrick, â€œwe can al go to Australia, and everybody except me can say good-bye to parents. And then everybody except me can come back. And the Outside Powers wil have but stirred in their sleep.â€​par 	â€œOne only,â€ said Fence. â€œThree uses, to awaken one. But they have been so recently roused, â€™twere fol y toâ€”â€​par 	â€œBut the next time you use those mirrors,â€ said Patrick, disregarding him, â€œbe it in two years or two hundred, the Outside Powers wil emerge roaring. Give me strength. You couldnâ€™t pay me to stay here.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t hear anybody offering,â€ said El en, absently. 
 	â€œThere arenâ€™t any magic mirrors in our house,â€
 	said Patrick. â€œHow do you propose to get there?â€​par 	
 	â€œThere wil be,â€ said Fence. â€œOne magic mirror maketh another, by their property of reflection.â€​par 	â€œNever mind,â€ said Patrick. â€œCan we get this over? Can we just go and do it now?â€​par 	â€œOf a certainty,â€​aid Fence, and got up. 
 	The five of them fol owed him along the drafty passages of High Castle, to the Mirror Room. Fence and Randolph would be coming to Australia with them, to lend what El en, or possibly Princess El en, cal ed verisimilitude to an otherwise drab and unconvincing narrative. â€œNot drab,â€​par 	Patrick had remarked, â€œbut about as unconvincing as you can get. Do you real y think a short guy in a wizardâ€™s robe and a tal one got up like Hamlet are going to put any twentieth-century parentâ€™s mind at ease?â€ Ted thought of this, trailing behind his shorter cousinâ€™s vigorous stride; watching the way Ruth and Randolph walked close together without touching; and the way El en stuck next to Laura and talked incessantly at her. If they could see us come out of that mirror, it should help, he thought. He plunged forward and caught up with Patrick. 
 	â€œPat? Where is the mirror in your new house?â€​par 	â€œWel , thereâ€™s one in the bathroom,â€ said Patrick, as if he had been expecting the question. â€œBut we wouldnâ€™t most of us fit through it. Thereâ€™s a ful -
 	length one on the back of my parentsâ€™ closet door; and a mirrored wal in the dining room. And a ful -length one in Ruthieâ€™s room. Take your pick.â€​par 	In the Mirror Room, three black cats slept in an untidy heap on Agathaâ€™s sewing table. El en scratched them al behind the ears. Fence made for the Conrad tapestry, and twitched it aside. 
 	
 	â€œFence?â€ said Ted. â€œCan we choose which mirror we come out?â€​par 	â€œMaybe,â€ said Fence. â€œYou might hold in your mindâ€™s eye the room you think best suited toâ€™t.â€​par 	â€œThe dining room, Ruth and El en,â€​aid Patrick. 
 	â€œJoin hands,â€ said Fence. â€œNow.â€ He laid his hand on the mirror. â€œCastle Coriander.â€​par 	And he stepped through the mirror, drawing Ruth, Randolph, Patrick, Ted, Laura, and El en after him. 
 	The surface of the mirror gave before Tedâ€™s hand like cloth. He stepped through, and the feel of cloth tattered and diminished. He saw a high-ceilinged, handsome room, flooded with early sunlight and furnished with a table and chairs he recognized. It was warm and smel ed pleasantly of coffee and pancakes. The table was laid for four. Three of them sat there already: a tal abstracted man with dust-colored hair and a vague face, Tedâ€™s Uncle Alan; a little black-haired man with very blue eyes, his father. Tedâ€™s uncle had not noticed them yet. His aunt, who was sitting directly across the table from the mirrored wal they had walked out of, dropped her knife with a clatter and said, â€œMother of God!â€​par 	â€œAngels and ministers of grace defend us!â€ said an ironic voice in the doorway; and there, in her old green bathrobe with her long brown hair fal ing over it in ratsâ€™
 	tails, just like Lauraâ€™s, stood their mother, her hands ful of mugs and in her face a kind of horrified delight. 
 	Laura ran at her, and she obligingly dropped the mugs, one of which broke, and hugged her daughter. â€œWhat are you doingâ€”â€ she said, and stopped, and put Laura a little away from her. â€œHoney. Youâ€™ve grown too. What is going on here?â€ She looked over Lauraâ€™s quivering head, found Ted unerringly, and grinned at him. Then she stood up. â€œI see two strangers here,â€ she said. 
 	â€œSirs? What does this mean?â€​par 	Ruth walked around the table and tapped her father on the shoulder. â€œDaddy,â€​he said. 
 	â€œAwake, are you?â€ said Tedâ€™s Uncle Alan. â€œI think there are some pancakes left.â€​par 	â€œAlan, look at the mirror,â€​aid Aunt Kim. 
 	He looked up. â€œTed,â€ he said, in a pleased tone. 
 	â€œAnd Laura. You didnâ€™t tel me they were coming,â€
 	he said to his wife. 
 	â€œOh, God!â€​aid Ruth, and burst out laughing. 
 	â€œOh, God, exactly,â€ said Tedâ€™s father. 
 	â€œTeach me to cal names. Mary Rose in triplicate, and Thomas the Rhymer in duplicate. And who are the rest of them? They look halfway responsible next to the bunch of you.â€​par 	â€œMother,â€ said Ruth, in a shaking voice where laughter almost met tears, â€œthis is Fence, and this is Randolph. This is my mother, Mistress Kimberly Carrol ; and my aunt, Mistress Nora, and my father, Master Alan, and my uncle, Master Thomas.â€​par 	Ruthâ€™s mother stood up. â€œAlan,â€ she said, â€œI think we need some more chairs.â€​par 	â€œI think,â€ said Tedâ€™s father, standing up too, â€œthat we need some more coffee.â€​par 	â€œThey drink tea,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThey can drink coffee for once,â€ said his father, eyeing him steadily. â€œLet them be a little off balance too.â€ He held out a hand suddenly, and Ted bolted forward and fel on his neck, like a proper prodigal son. 
 	There was a certain amount of sniveling al around, and an appal ing amount of talk, and a staggering interrogation under which Fence and Randolph bore up very wel . 
 	Tedâ€™s parents, he was relieved to see, believed the story, in the end. His aunt did not, but seemed wil ing, possibly through mere exhaustion, to let them continue to their conclusion. It was hard to tel with his Uncle Alan, who might not consider disbelief a barrier to, or belief a reason for, anybodyâ€™s action. So Ruth explained that al of them except Patrick were going back to the Hidden Land; and the yel ing started. Ruth and El en and Patrickâ€™s side of the family were great yel ers. 
 	Very few speeches into it, Ted and Lauraâ€™s side of the family plunged precipitately into the living room, dragging a reluctant Fence, shut the door, fel into whatever chairs were nearest, and stared at one another in a worn-out silence. 
 	â€œNow letâ€™s try again,â€​aid Tedâ€™s mother. 
 	â€œNo, wait,â€ said Ted. â€œFence. Have you got an immigration quota?â€​par 	â€œI beg your pardon?â€​par 	â€œCan they come too?â€ He had not been able to ask it in the other room. His aunt and uncle would never come. 
 	There was another sort of silence. â€œWhy not?â€ said Fence. He looked cautiously at Tedâ€™s father, who had been cal ing him a variety of names Ted had never heard before, and at Tedâ€™s mother, who had been steadily disregarding him, and said, â€œYouâ€™d be heartily welcome; heartily.â€​par 	â€œI canâ€™t think why,â€​aid Tedâ€™s mother. 
 	â€œIf these were mine,â€ said Fence, gently, â€œIâ€™d fight as hard as this to keep them.â€​par 	â€œMom,â€ said Laura. â€œThey al talk like Shakespeare there.â€​par 	â€œWel ,â€​aid their mother, on a shaky laugh, â€œthen thereâ€™s no more to be said, surely?â€​par 	â€œOh, Lord,â€ said their father. â€œWhat time is it in Il inois? Weâ€™l have to cal Kathy and Jim and tel themâ€”something.â€​par 	â€œBlame it on us,â€ said Ted. â€œTheyâ€™l believe anything about us.â€​par 	â€œDo you think theyâ€™re going to cal the police in there?â€​aid Tedâ€™s mother. 
 	â€œTheyâ€™l think of it,â€ said his father, â€œand Randolph wil point out that al seven of them can simply step back through the mirror before anybody so much as picks up the telephone.â€​par 	â€œTom,â€ said their mother, â€œare we in fact going to do this?â€​par 	Tedâ€™s father put his head in his hands. â€œIf we did,â€ he said. â€œPower of attorney. Thank God we signed one before we left. We need to sel the house and most of the contents. Kim and Alan should have some of the good stuff. Weâ€™l have to make a list. Now. Why are we doing this?â€​par 	Tedâ€™s mother said, in a tone he recognized, â€œWeâ€™ve decided to emigrate. Weâ€™re staying with Kim and Alan until we find a house.â€​par 	â€œPostcards,â€ said Tedâ€™s father. â€œWeâ€™d better write a series and have Kim mail them at intervalsâ€”if she wil .â€​par 	â€œPatrick wil ,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œYes, of course. You two had better write some too. 
 	Friends, relations, teachers.â€​par 	â€œAnother list,â€ said their mother. â€œPeople you donâ€™t want to have worrying about you. We mustnâ€™t disappear. We must move to Australia and gradual y lose touch. Wil Patrick mail postcards for a year and a half? It would take that long, real y.â€​par 	â€œPatrick wil fol ow a schedule until Armageddon,â€
 	said Tedâ€™s father. 
 	â€œWhat are we going to do down here to earn money?â€​aid their mother. 
 	â€œI could help Kim with the farm,â€ said their father, dubiously. 
 	The rest of the family burst out laughing. 
 	â€œYouâ€™re doing it wrong,â€ said Ted. â€œWhat have you always wanted to do? Tel them youâ€™re doing it.â€​par 	â€œLive where everybody talks like Shakespeare,â€
 	said their mother, not laughing at al . 
 	â€œWhatâ€™s your second choice?â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œCartography,â€​aid his mother, promptly. 
 	â€œDoes Australia need cartographers?â€ said her husband. 
 	
 	â€œThe Hidden Land needs them,â€​aid Fence. 
 	They had forgotten about him. 
 	â€œWel , thatâ€™s a relief,â€ said Tedâ€™s mother. 
 	â€œI donâ€™t imagine being a parasite in a magical kingdom is any pleasanter than being one anywhere else.â€​par 	â€œTheyâ€™re musicians, Fence,â€​aid Ted. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s wel for us. Doth Australia need musicians?â€​par 	â€œTel â€™em youâ€™re taking some courses in computer programming,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œThey wonâ€™t believe it,â€​aid her father. 
 	â€œSure they wil . Theyâ€™l say, wel , final y, heâ€™s fulfil ing his potential,â€ said Laura, rol ing the phrase on her tongue with a scorn Ted had not known she was capable of. 
 	There was a great deal more to be said, but it was of a far less awful and enervating nature than what was going on in the next room. Ted was only surprised that somebody or other had not run out in a fit of hysteria or rage or both. But nobody did; and when Ted and Laura and their parents, trailed by Fence, cautiously opened the door and walked back into the dining room, the other half of the Carrol family was quiet, if tear-blotched, and actual y looked at them inquiringly. Randolph was the only person present who had not, clearly, been crying; and he looked worse than those who had. 
 	â€œWeâ€™re al going back,â€ said Ted into the stuffy air. â€œAl four of us.â€​par 	â€œAnd we are, al two,â€​aid Ruth, foggily. 
 	â€œIâ€™m staying,â€​aid El en, with great clarity. 
 	
 	Her father put out an arm and gathered her in; Tedâ€™s Aunt Kim closed her eyes with her fingers and leaned on the table, saying nothing. 
 	â€œSomebody,â€ said El en, â€œhas to keep Patrick in line.â€​par 	â€œMother?â€ said Ruth, â€œIâ€™d be going to col ege in a few years anyway.â€​par 	â€œWhat you have to do,â€ said El en, her cheerful voice beginning to clog up, â€œis figure out a way around this idiotic prohibition so everybody can come to the wedding.â€​par 	â€œI donâ€™t see,â€ said Tedâ€™s Aunt Kim, from under her hand, â€œthat thereâ€™s anything we can do or say that we havenâ€™t tried. If youâ€™re going, Ruth, youâ€™re going. Youâ€™re too old to be ordered.â€​par 	â€œEl en,â€​aid Ruth, â€œdonâ€™t do this for me.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m not,â€​aid El en. â€œI liked it there; but I like it here.â€​par 	And that, thought Ted, was perfectly true. El en made the best of whatever place received her. He looked at his sister, who was staring at El en, stricken. 
 	â€œMargaretâ€™s nice,â€​e said to her. 
 	â€œMargaretâ€™s a demon,â€​aid Laura. 
 	â€œSo is El en a demon,â€ said Ruth. â€œYouâ€™re just used to her.â€​par 	â€œIâ€™m starting to get in your way, Laurie,â€ said El en. 
 	â€œThatâ€™s stupid!â€​aid Laura. 
 	
 	El en just looked at her. Ted didnâ€™t think it was stupid. 
 	As Laura became less of a mouse, El en wouldnâ€™t know what to do with her; El en had had eleven years of hauling around her terrified, clumsy cousin. No doubt they would have managed if they had stayed together; but there was no need to say that now. 
 	â€œWhat,â€ said Ruthâ€™s mother, with somewhat more energy, â€œare we going to tel people?â€​par 	â€œThe four of us,â€ said Tedâ€™s mother, in that same familiar tone, â€œare emigrating to Australia. Why donâ€™t we settle in Sydney, and take Ruth with us, Kim, because being stuck out in the middle of nowhere doesnâ€™t agree with her?â€​par 	â€œMy English teacherâ€™l worry,â€ said Ruth, suddenly. 
 	â€œWrite her some postcards,â€ said Tedâ€™s mother. 
 	â€œThough I donâ€™t know whoâ€™s to mail them from Sydney.â€​par 	â€œI wil ,â€ said El en. â€œMom can take me when she goes shopping. I can write some for you too, Ruthie; I can imitate your handwriting.â€​par 	â€œOh, yeah?â€​aid Ruth, without much force. 
 	â€œWhat are you doing about your house?â€ asked Ruthâ€™s father, who had been hanging about the edges of this discussion with the expression of somebody who likes Bach but has been inveigled into attending a heavy-metal concert. Tedâ€™s parents explained it to him, with relish, adding details as they went along, and final y got him occupied making a list of which of their books he wanted. 
 	â€œFence,â€ said Laura, â€œdoesnâ€™t this add up to an awful lot of lies?â€​par 	Both her parents looked around; they knew the force of that argument. Fence quirked the corner of his mouth, and then grinned. â€œJust this once,â€ he said, in excel ent imitation of Ruth, â€œcal it sorcery.â€​par 	There was a silence. Ted counted up the good-byes there were to be said, and was not sure he could manage it. 
 	â€œAre you in a hurry,â€ said his Aunt Kim, rubbing her eyes, â€œor wil you stay and eat something with us?â€​par 	â€œYes,â€ said El en, looking over her fatherâ€™s encircling arm at Laura with a very private and rather wavery smile, â€œhave some cornflakes before you go.â€​par