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ern floor。 Inch was standing on a ladder that leaned against the wall just below Simon's arm。
But it wasn't the wall； Simon saw a moment later。 The rope around his wrist was now spiked to the forge's immense water wheel。 His other wrist and both ankles had already been secured。 He was spread…eagled a few cubits beneath the wheel's edge； ten cubits above the ground。
The wheel was not moving； and the sluice of dark water seemed farther away than it should。
〃Do whatever you want。〃 Simon clenched his teeth against the scream that wanted to erupt。 〃I don't care。 Do anything。〃
Inch tugged at Simon's wrists again； testing。 Simon could begin to feel the downward pull of his weight； against the bonds and the slow warmth in the joints of his arms； precursor of real pain。
〃Do？ I do nothing。〃 Inch placed his huge hand on Simon's chest and gave a push； forcing Simon's breath out in a surprised hiss。 〃I waited。 You took my place。 I waited and waited to be Doctor Inch。 Now you wait。〃
〃W…wait for what？〃
Inch smiled； a slow spread of lips that revealed broken teeth。 〃Wait to die。 No food。 Maybe I will give you water…it will take longer that way。 Maybe I will think of。。。 something else to do。 Doesn't matter。 You will wait。〃 Inch nodded his head。 〃Wait。〃 He pushed the mallet's handle into his belt and climbed down the ladder。
Simon craned his neck； watching Inch's progress with stupefied fascination。 The overseer reached the bottom and waved for a pair of his henchmen to take the ladder away。 Simon sadly watched it go。 Even if he somehow escaped his bonds； he would surely fall to his death。
But Inch was not finished。 He moved forward until he was almost hidden from Simon's view by the great wheel； then pulled down on a thick wooden lever。 Simon heard a grinding noise； then felt the wheel jerk； its sudden motion rattling his bones。 It slipped downward； shuddering as it went； then splashed into the sluice； sending another jolt through Simon。
Slowly 。。。 ever so slowly 。。。 the wheel began to turn。
At first it was almost a relief to be rotated down toward the ground。 The weight shifted from both his arms to his wrist and ankle； then gradually the strain moved to his legs as the chamber turned upside down。 Then； as he rolled even further downward； blood rushed to his head until it felt as though it would burst out through his ears。
At the bottom of his revolution； water splashed just beyond him； almost wetting his finger tips。
Above the wheel； the immense chains were again reeling up into darkness。
〃Couldn't stop it for long；〃 rumbled a downside…up Inch。 〃Bellows don't work； buckets don't work…and the Red Rat Wizard's tower don't turn。〃 He stood staring for a moment as Simon slowly began to rise toward the cavern ceiling。 〃It does lots of things； this wheel。〃 His remaining eye glittered in the light from the forge。 〃Kills little kitchen boys。〃
He turned and lumbered off across the chamber。
It didn't hurt that much at first。 Simon's wrists were so securely bound； and he was stretched so tightly against the wheel's wide rim； that there was very little movement。 He was hungry； which kept him clearheaded enough to think； his mind revolved far more swiftly than the prisoning wheel； circling through the events that had brought him to this place and through dozens of unlikely possibilities for escape。
Perhaps Stanhelm would e when it was sleeping time and cut him loose； he told himself。 Inch had his own chamber somewhere in another part of the forge： with luck； Simon could be freed without the hulking overseer even knowing。 But where would he go？ And what made him think that Stanhelm was still alive； or if he was； that he would risk death again to save a person he barely knew？
Someone else？ But who？ None of the other foundrymen cared if Simon lived or died…nor could he much blame them。 How could you worry about another person when every moment was a struggle to breathe the air； to survive the heat； to perform backbreaking work at the whim of a brutish master？
And this time there were no friends to rescue Simon。 Binabik and Miriamele； even should they somehow make their way into the castle； would surely never e here。 They sought the king…and had no reason to believe Simon still lived； anyway。 Those who had rescued him from danger in the past…Jiriki； Josua； Aditu…were far away； on the grasslands or marching toward Nabban。 Any friends who had once lived in the castle were gone。 And even if he somehow managed to free himself from this wheel； where would he go？ What could he do？ Inch would only catch him again； and next time the forge…master might not devise such a gradual torment。
He strained again at his bonds； but they were heavy ropes woven to resist the strains of forge work and they gave not at all。 He could work at them for days and only tear the skin from his wrists。 Even the spikes that held the knotted ropes against the wheel's timbers were no help： Inch had carefully driven them between the strands so that the rope would not split。
The burning in his arms and legs was worsening。 Simon felt a drumbeat of real dread begin inside him。 He could not move。 No matter what happened； no matter how bad it got； no matter how much he screamed and struggled for release； there was nothing he could do。
It would almost be a relief； he thought； if Pryrates came and found that Inch held him prisoner。 The red priest would do terrible things to him； but at least they would be different terrible things…sharp pains； long pains； little ones and great ones。 This； Simon could tell； was only going to bee steadily worse。 Soon his hunger would bee a torment as well。 Most of a day had passed since he had last eaten； and he was already thinking on his last bowl of scum…flecked soup with a regret bordering on madness。
As he turned upside…down once more； his stomach lurched； momentarily freeing him from hunger。 It was little enough to be grateful for； but Simon's expectations were being very slight。
The pain that burned his body was matched by a fury that grew within him as he suffered； a helpless rage that could find no outlet and so began to gnaw at the very foundations of his sanity instead。 Like an angry man he had once seen in Erchester； who threw everything in his house out of the window； piece by piece； Simon had nothing to fling at his enemies but what was his own…his beliefs； his loves； his most cherished memories。
Morgenes and Josua and Binabik and the others had used him； he decided。 They had taken a boy who could not even write his own name and had made him a tool。 Under their manipulation and for their benefit he had been driven from his home； had been made an exile； had seen the death of many he held dear and the destruction of much that was innocent and beautiful。 With no say in his own destiny he had been led this way and that； and told just enough half…truths to keep him soldiering on。 For the sake of Josua he had faced a dragon and won…then the Great Sword had been taken from him and given to someone else。 For Binabik's sake he had stayed on in Yiqanuc…who could say that Haestan wo