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cery of reliefs that covered the stone； and after some moments he could stand unaided。
He paused； listening to the wind moaning outside the tower walls and the faint din of battle。 One additional sound gradually became louder。 Footsteps were echoing up the stairwell。
Simon looked around helplessly。 There was nowhere to hide。 He drew Bright…Nail and felt it throb in his hand； filling him with a heady warmth like a swallow of the trolls' Hunt…wine。 For a brief moment； he considered standing bravely with the sword in his hand； waiting to meet whoever was mounting the stairs； but he knew that was terrible foolishness。 It could be anyone…soldiers； Norns； even the king or Pryrates。 Simon had the lives of others to think about； a Great Sword that must be brought to the final battle； these were responsibilities that could not be ignored。 He turned and went lightly up the steps； holding Bright…Nail leveled before him so the blade would not scrape against something and give him away。 Someone had already been on these stairs today： torches burned in the wall…sconces； filling the places between windows with jittering yellow light。
The stairs wound upward； and within a score of steps he came upon a thick wooden door set into the inner wall。 Relief swept through him： he could hide in the room behind it； and if he was careful； peer out through the slot set high in the door to see who climbed behind him。 The discovery had e not a moment too soon。 Despite his haste； the trailing footfalls had not grown any fainter； and as he paused to fumble with the doorlatch they seemed to bee quite loud。
The door pivoted inward。 Simon peered into the shadows beyond； then stepped through。 The floor seemed to sag beneath his feet as he turned and eased the door closed。 He stepped away so the edge of the door could swing past without hitting him； and his back foot came down on nothing。
Simon made a sound of startled terror and grabbed at the inside door handle。 The door swung into the room； tipping him even farther backward as he stabbed with his foot for something to stand on。 Panic…sweat made his grip on the door handle treacherous。 The torchlight leaking in through the doorway showed a floor that extended only a cubit past the door jamb and then fell away in rotted splinters。 He could see nothing below but darkness。
He had barely regained his balance； pulling himself back onto the fragment of flooring with one hand； when the great and terrible bell rang a second time。 For an instant the world fell away around him and the room with the missing floor filled with light and leaping flames。 The sword； which he had held tightly even while dangling over nothingness； tumbled from his grip and fell。 A moment later the flames were gone and Simon was tottering on the edge of floor。 Bright…Nail…precious； precious thing； the hope of all the world…had disappeared into the shadows below。
The footfalls； which had stopped for long moments started again。 Simon pushed the door closed and huddled with his back against it； on a narrow strip of wood over empty blackness。 He heard the footsteps pass his hiding place and move away up the stairwell…but he no longer cared who shared the tower with him。 Bright…Nail was lost。
They were so high。 The walls of the stairwell seemed to lean inward； closing on her like a swallowing throat。 Miriamele swayed。 If that ear…shattering bell rang a fourth time； she would surely lose her balance and fall。 The plummet down the battering stairs would be unending。
〃We are almost there；〃 whispered Binabik。
〃I know。〃 She could feel something waiting for them just a short distance above： the very air trembled。 〃I don't know if I can go there。。。〃
The troll took her hand。 〃I'm also frightened。〃 She could scarcely hear him over the shrilling of the wind。 〃But your uncle is being there； and Camaris has now carried the sword up to that place。 Pryrates is there； too。〃
〃And my father。〃
Binabik nodded。
Miriamele took a deep breath and looked up to wherea thin gleam of scarlet leaked past the bend of the stairwell。 Death and even worse was waiting there。 She knew she must go； but she also knew with terrible clarity that the moment she took her next step the world she had known would begin to end。
She ran her hands across her sweaty face。
〃I'm ready。〃
Smoky light throbbed where the stairs opened into the chamber above。 Thunder growled outside。 Miriamele squeezed Binabik's arm； then patted at her belt； touching the dagger she had taken from the cold； unmoving hand of one of Isorn's men。 She took another arrow from herpack and fitted it loosely on the string of her bow。 Pryrates had been hurt once…even if she could not kill him； perhaps she could provide a crucial distraction。
They stepped up into the bloody glow。
Tiamak's thin legs were the first thing she saw。 The Wrannaman lay unmoving against the wall with his robe rucked up around his knees。 She choked back a cry and swallowed hard； then mounted higher； her face lifted into the streaming wind。
Dark clouds knotted the sky beyond the high windows； ragged edges agleam with the Conqueror Star's feverish light。 Flecks of snow swirled like ashes beneath the chamber ceiling where the great bells hung。 The sense of waiting； of a world in suspension； was very strong。 Miriamele struggled for breath。
She heard Binabik make a small noise beside her。 Camaris knelt on the floor beneath the green…skinned bells； his shoulders shaking； black Thorn held upright before him like a holy Tree。 A few paces away stood Pryrates； scarlet robes rippling in the powerful wind。 But neither of these held her attention。
〃Father？〃 It came out as little more than a whisper。
The king's head lifted； but the motion seemed to take a long time。 His pale face was skeletally gaunt； his eyes deep…sunken； gleaming like shuttered lamps。 He stared at her； and she felt herself falling into shards。 She wanted to weep； to laugh； to rush to him and help to make him well again。 Another part of her； trapped and screaming； wanted to see this twisted thing that pretended to be him…that could not be the man who had raised her…obliterated； sent down into darkness where it could not trouble her with either love or terror。
〃Father？！〃 This time her voice carried。
Pryrates cocked his head toward her； a look of annoyance hurried across his shiny face。 〃See？ They pay no heed； Highness；〃 he told the king。 〃They will always go where they do not belong。 No wonder your reign has burdened you so。〃
Elias shrugged his shoulders in anger or impatience。 His face was slack。 〃Send her away。〃
〃Father； wait！〃 she cried； and took a step forward； 〃God help us； don't do this！ I have crossed the world to speak to you！ Don't do this！〃
Pryrates held up his hands and said something she could not hear。 Abruptly she was seized all over by some invisible thing that clung and burned； then she and Binabik were thrown back against the chamber wall。 Her pack fell from her shoulder and tumbled onto the floor； spilling its contents。 The bow flew from her hand and spun away out of reach。 She fought； but the clinging force gave only enough to allow he