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ng at the rear； trying to stay out of the hoof…ruts and thereby keep the snow from creeping in over the tops of their well…oiled boots。
Where Mintahoq was rounded like an old man bent by years； Sikkihoq was all angles and steep sides。 The troll…paths clung to the mountain's back； winding far out to swing around icy columns of rock； then passing out of the sunlight in the mountain's own shadow； following the inside line of a vertical crevice that dropped away beyond the path into mist and snow。
Trudging down the narrow trails hour after hour； constantly wiping the fluttering snow from his eyes； Simon found himself praying they would reach the bottom soon。 Returning strength or no； he was not meant for mountain life。 The thin air hurt his lungs and made his legs feel heavy and weak as sodden loaves of bread。 When he tried to sleep at the end of the day； his muscles were so painfully tight they almost seemed to hum。
The very heights in which they traveled also disturbed him。 He had always thought of himself as a fearless climber； but that had been before he left Hayholt for the wide world。 Now； Simon found it much easier to keep his eyes fastened to the back of Sludig's brown boots as they lifted and fell than to look elsewhere。 When his gaze swung away to the leaning masses of stone above them or the empty depths below； he found it difficult to remember level ground。 Somewhere； he reminded himself； there were places where a person could turn and walk in any direction without risking a death…fall。 He had lived in such a place； so they must still exist。 Somewhere mile after flat mile lay like a deep carpet； waiting for Simon's feet。
They had stopped at a wider place to rest。 Simon helped Haestan take off his pack； then watched as the guardsman slumped down onto a snow…dampened stone； breathing so heavily that he soon surrounded himself with a fog of vapors。 Haestan slipped his hood off for a moment； then shivered as the high wind struck him。 He quickly pulled it back on。 Ice crystals glimmered in his dark beard。
〃S'cold； lad；〃 he said。 〃Bitter。〃 He suddenly looked old。
〃Do you have a family； Haestan？〃 Simon asked。
The guardsman paused for a moment as if taken aback； then laughed。 〃Of sorts。 I've a woman； a wife； but no little'uns。 First baby died； we've gotten none since。 I've not seen her since 'fore winter。〃 He shook his head。 〃She be safe； though。 Gone t'live with folk in Hewenshire… Naglimund be too dangerous； told her。 War in'。〃 He shook his head。 〃Now if y'r witch woman speaks true； war's over an' Prince Josua lost。〃
〃But Geloe said he escaped；〃 Simon put in hurriedly。
〃Aye； that be somethin'。〃
They sat in silence for a while； listening to the wind among the rocks。 Simon looked down at the sword Thorn lying atop Haestan's pack； gleaming blackly； dotted with melting snowftakes。 〃Is the sword too heavy for you？ I could carry it for a while。〃
Haestan considered him for a moment before grinning。 〃Y'r wele to it； Simon…lad。 Y'should have sword； what with that first manly beard an' all。 Thing is； hard t'say if it be any good as a sword； if y'take my meaning。〃
〃I know。 I know how it changes。〃 He remembered Thorn in his own hands。 At first it had been cold and heavy as an anvil。 Then； as he stood poised； balanced on the cliff's edge staring into the dragon's milky blue eyes； it had bee light as a birch…staff。 The glossy blade had seemed inspirited； as though it breathed。 〃It's almost like it's alive。 Like an animal or something。 Is it heavy for you now？〃
Haestan shook his head； looking up at the flurrying snow。 〃No； lad。 Seems it wants t'go where we're goin'。 Thinks it be goin' home； mayhap。〃
Simon smiled to hear them both talking about a sword as though it were a dog or a horse。 Still； there was an undeniable tension to the thing； like a spider still in a web； or a fish hanging suspended in the cold darkness of a river bottom。 He looked at it again。 The sword； if it was alive； was a wild thing。 The blackness of it devoured light； leaving only a thin residue of reflection； sparkling crumbs in a miser's beard。 A wild thing； a dark thing。
〃It's going where we're going；〃 Simon said； then considered for a moment。 〃But that's not going to be home。 Not my home。〃
As he lay that night in a narrow cavern which was little more than a nick in Sikkihoq's muscular stone back； Simon dreamed of a tapestry。 It was a moving tapestry； hanging on a wall of absolute blackness。 In it； as in the religious pictures of the Hayholt's chapel； a great tree stood； arms rising to heaven。 This tree was white and smooth as Harcha marble。
Prince Josua hung upon it head down； like Usires Aedon Himself in His suffering。
A shadowy figure stood before Josua； driving nails into him with a great； gray hammer。 Josua did not speak or cry out； but his followers all around were moaning。 The prince's eyes were wide with patient suffering； like the carved face of Usires that had hung on the wall of Simon's boyhood home in the servant's quarters。
Simon could not bear to see any more。 He thrust himself through into the tapestry itself and ran at the shadow…figure。 As he ran； he felt a weighty something dangling in his hand。 He lifted his arm to swing it； but the murky thing reached up and caught his hand； pulling Simon's weapon away。 He had been holding a black hammer。 But for its color； it was the twin of the gray。
〃Better；〃 the thing said。 It hefted the ebony mallet in its other shadowy hand and began once more to drive nails。 This time Josua screamed with each blow； screamed and screamed。。。
。。。 Simon awakened to find himself shivering in darkness； the raspy breathing of his traveling panions all around him； vying with the wind that moaned as it searched the mountain passes outside the cavern。 He wanted to waken Binabik； or Haestan； or Sludig…anybody who could speak to him in his own tongue…but could not find any of them in the dark； and knew even in his fear that he should not startle the others awake。
He lay down once more； listening to the crooning wind。 He was afraid to go back to sleep； afraid he would hear those awful screams once more。 He strained to see in the darkness so he would know his eyes were open； but there was nothing。
Some time before light returned； exhaustion overmatched his fretting mind and he at last fell asleep。 If more dreams troubled him； he did not remember them on awakening。
They were three more days on heart…freezingly narrow trails before they made their way down out of Sikkihoq's heights。 On the mountain's shoulders they no longer had to travel single file； so as they came down onto a broad shelf of snow…dotted granite the pany stopped to celebrate。 It was a rare hour of afternoon sunlight。 The light had broken through the cobweb of clouds and the wind for once seemed playful instead of predatory。
Binabik rode Qantaqa ahead to scout the terrain； then turned the wolf loose to hunt。 She was gone into a tumble of white…mantled boulders in an instant。 Binabik walked back to the rest of the party； a broad smile on his face。
〃It is good to be off the cliffs for a time；〃 he said； sitting next to Simon； w