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touched his arm。 〃e； Eolair； please！ Don't be such an old man！ How could you leave this place without knowing？〃
The Count of Nad Mullach frowned； but she could see other emotions struggling beneath the surface。 He did wish to know； that was plain。 It was just this transparency that had captured her heart。 How could he be an envoy to all the courts of Osten Ard and yet sometimes be as uncloudedly obvious as a child？
〃Please？〃 she said。
He checked the oil in the lamps before answering。 〃Very well。 But only to set your mind at ease； I do not doubt that you have found a place that once belonged to the Sithi； or to men of old who had skills we have lost； but they are long vanished。 They cannot save us from our fate。〃
〃Whatever you say； Count。 Hurry now！〃
She tugged him forward； into the city。
Despite her confident words； the stone byways did indeed seem long…deserted。 Dust sifted beneath their feet； eddying listlessly。 After they had walked awhile； Maegwin found her enthusiasm begin to diminish； her thoughts turning melancholy as the lamplight threw the jutting towers and swooping spans into grotesque relief。 She was again reminded of bones； as though they wandered through the time…scoured rib cage of some impossible beast。 Following the twisting streets through the abandoned city； she began to feel herself swallowed up。 For the first time the utterness of these depths； the sheer furlongs of stone between herself and the sun； seemed oppressive。
They passed innumerable empty holes in the carved stone facades； holes whose smooth edges had once been tight…filled by doors。 Maegwin imagined eyes staring out at her from the darkened entrances…not malicious eyes； but sad ones； eyes that gazed at the trespassers with more regret than anger。
Surrounded by proud ruins； Lluth's daughter felt herself weighted down by all that her people had not bee； all that they could never be。 Given the entirety of the world's sunlit fields in which to run； the Hernystiri tribes had let themselves be driven into caves in the mountain。 Even their gods had deserted them。 At least these Sithi had left their memorial in magnificently crafted stone。 Maegwin's people built of wood； and even the bones of Hernystir's warriors now bleaching on the Inniscrich would disappear with the passing of years。 Soon there would be nothing left of her people at all。
Unless someone saved them。 But surely none but the Sithi could do that…and where had they gone？ Was Eolair right？ Were they indeed dead？ She had been sure they had gone deep into the earth； but perhaps they had passed on to some other place。
She stole a glance at Eolair。 The count was walking silently beside her； staring up at the city's splendid towers like a farmer from the Circoille fringes on his first visit to Hernysadharc。 Watching his thin…nosed face； his bedraggled tail of black hair； she suddenly felt her love for him e surging up from the place where she had thought it prisoned； a helpless love as painful and undeniable as grief。 Maegwin's memory went flying back almost a score of years to the first day she had seen him。
She had been only a girl； but already tall as a grown woman； she recalled with disgust。 She had been standing behind her father's chair in the Taig's great hall when the new Count of Nad Mullach arrived for his ritual pledge of loyalty。 Eolair had seemed so young that day； slender and bright…eyed as a fox； nervous； but almost giddy with pride。 Seemed young？ He had been young： scarcely more than twenty…two years old； full of the suppressed laughter of anxious youth。 He had caught Maegwin's eye as she peered cunously around the high back of Lluth's chair。 She had blushed scarlet as a berry。 Eolair had smiled then； showing her those bright； small； sharp teeth； and it had felt as though he took a gentle bite of her heart。
It had meant nothing to him； of course。 Maegwin knew that。 She was only a girl then； but already fated to bee the king's gawky spinster daughter； a woman who lavished her attention on pigs and horses and birds with broken wings； and knocked things off tabletops because she could never remember to walk and sit and carry herself delicately； as a lady should。 No； he had meant nothing more than a fretful smile at a wide…eyed young girl； but with that unwitting smile Eolair had caught her forever in an unbreakable net。。。
Her thoughts were interrupted as the walled road they had chosen ended before a broad； squat tower whose surface crawled with ornate stone vines and translucent stone flowers。 A wide doorway gaped darkly like a toothless mouth。 Eolair looked at the shadowed entrance suspiciously before stepping forward to peer inside。
The interior of the tower seemed oddly spacious； despite the close…hovermg shadows。 A stairway choked with rubble curled away up one inner wall； and a descending stairway passed around the circumference of the tower in the opposite direction When they drew their lamps back outside the door； a glimmer of light…only the faintest of sheens…seemed to brighten the air where this downward passage disappeared from view。
Maegwin took a deep breath。 Astonishingly； she felt no fear at being in such a mad place。 〃We will turn back whenever you say。〃
〃That staircase is far too treacherous；〃 Eolair replied。 〃We should go back now。〃 He hesitated； torn between curiosity and responsibility。 There was indeed an unarguable gleam of light from the downtrack。 Maegwin stared at it； but said nothing。 The count sighed。 〃We will just go a little way on the other path； instead。〃
They followed the downward path； spiraling for what seemed a furlong into the depths until they leveled out at last in a broad； low…ceilinged passageway。 The walls and roof were carved with tangled vines and grasses and flowers； a panorama of vegetation that could only grow far above； beneath sun and sky。 The interwoven strands of stem and vine ran endlessly along the wall beside them in a tapestry of stone。 Despite the immensity of the panels； no part of the wall seemed carved with exactly the same design as any other。 The great carvings themselves were posed of many kinds of rock； of an almost infinite variety of hues and textures； but the panels were no mosaic of individual tiles as was the patterned floor。 Rather； the very stone itself seemed to have grown in exact and pleasing shapes； as a hedge coaxed and pruned by gardeners might mimic the form of an animal or bird。
〃By the gods of Earth and Sky；〃 she breathed。
〃We must turn back； Maegwin。〃 There was little conviction m Eolair's voice。 Here in the deeps； time seemed to have slowed almost to a stop。
They walked on； examining the fantastic carvings in silence。 At last； the lamplight was supplemented by a more diffuse glow from the tunnel's far end Maegwin and the count stepped out of the passageway and into the open； where the shadowed ceiling of the huge cavern once more arched distantly overhead。
They stood on a broad fan of tiles above a great and shallow bowl of stone。
The arena； three stone…throws across； was lined all about with benches of pale； crumbling chert； as though the deserted bowl had been the site of worship or vast spectacle