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was making him even more frightened than he had been。
The red mist had spread until it surrounded and partially obscured the great stone。 The Fire Dancers were chanting now； cracked voices unpleasantly echoing the poison…sweet song of the Norns。
There was a movement in the mist； a pale bulky something that Simon at first thought was the stone itself given magical life。 Then it strode forward out of the reddened darkness on four huge legs and the earth seemed to shudder beneath its tread。 It was a great white bull； bigger than any Simon had ever seen； taller than a man at its shoulders。 Despite its solidity； it seemed oddly translucent； as though it had been sculpted from fog。 Its eyes burned like coals； and its bone…hued horns seemed to cradle the sky。 On its back； riding like a knight on a horse； sat a massive black…robed figure。 Terror beat out from this apparition like the heat of a summer sun。 Simon felt first his fingers； then his hands go nerveless； so that he could not tell if he was still holding the precious shard。 All he could think of was escaping from that terrible； empty black hood。 He wanted only to throw himself against the weight of his ropes until they burst； or gnaw them until he was free to run and run and run。。。。
The chanting of the Fire Dancers grew ragged； shouts of awe and terror intermixed with the ritualistic words。 Maefwaru stood before his congregation； waving his thick arms in horrified glee。
〃Veng'a Sutekh！〃 he shouted。 〃Duke of the Black Wind！ He is e to make the Master's Third House！〃
The great figure atop the bull stared down at him； then the hood turned slowly； surveying the hilltop。 Its invisible eyes passed across Simon like a freezing wind。
〃Oh； Usires on the T…T…Tree！〃 Miriamele moaned。 〃W…What is it？〃
Strangely； for a moment Simon's madness lessened； as though the fear had bee too great to sustain any longer。 He had never heard Miriamele so frightened； and her horrified voice pulled him back from the brink。 He realized that he still held the bit of crystal clutched between his stiffened fingers。
〃It is a bad 。。。 a bad thing；〃 he panted。 〃One of the Storm King's。。。〃 He caught at her wrist and began sawing away once more。 〃Oh； Miri； hold still。〃
She was gulping air。 〃I'll 。。。 try。。。。〃
The Norns had turned and were speaking to Maefwaru； who alone of his congregation seemed able to stand the sight of the bull and its rider： the rest of the Fire Dancers groveled in the tangled undergrowth； their chanting now entirely given way to sobs of almost ecstatic fear。 Maefwaru turned and gesticulated toward the tree where Simon and Miriamele were tied。
〃They're c…ing for us；〃 Simon stuttered。 As he spoke； the shard sliced through the last strands of Miriamele's ropes。 〃Cut mine； quick。〃
Miriamele half…turned； trying to use her fluttering cloak to hide what they were doing from their captors。 He could feel her vigorous movements as she dragged the edge of the crystal fragment back and forth across the thick hemp。 The Norns were making their way slowly across the hilltop toward them。
〃Oh； Aedon； they're ing！〃 Simon said。
〃I'm almost through！〃 she whispered。 He felt something gouge into his wrist； then Miriamele cursed。 〃I dropped it！〃
Simon hung his head。 So it was hopeless； then。 Beside him； he felt Miriamele hastily winding her own severed rope around her wrists once more so that it would appear she was still bound。
The Norns came on； their graceful walk and billowing robes making them almost seem to float over the rough ground。 Their faces were expressionless； their eyes black as the holes between stars。 They converged around the tree and Simon felt his arm caught in a cold； unbreakable grip。 One of the Norns severed the rope that had leashed the prisoners； then Simon and Miriamele were drawn stumbling across the hilltop toward the looming stone and the terrifying shape that had appeared from the red mist。
He felt his heart speeding as he neared the bull and its rider； racing faster with each step until he thought it would burst through the walls of his chest。 The Norns who held him were frighteningly alien； implacably hostile； but the fear they inspired was as nothing before the all…crushing terror of the Storm King's Red Hand。
The Norns flung him to the ground。 The bull's hooves； each wide as a barrel； were only a few cubits away。 He did not want to look； wanted only to keep his face pressed against the shielding vegetation； but something drew his head inexorably upward until he was staring at what seemed a shimmer of flame in the depths of the black hood。
〃We have e to raise the Third House；〃 the thing said。 Its stony voice rumbled both without and within Simon； shaking the ground and his bones as well。 〃What is。。。 this？〃
Maefwaru was so frightened and excited that his voice was a squeal。 〃I had a dream！ The Master wanted this one； great Veng'a Sutekh…I know that he did！〃
An invisible something abruptly grasped Simon's mind as a falcon's claws might seize a rabbit。 He felt his thoughts shaken and flung about with brutal abandon； so that he fell down onto his face； shrieking with pain and horror。 He only dimly heard the thing speak again。
〃We remember this little fly…but it is no longer wanted。 The Red Hand has other business now 。。。 and we need more blood before we are ready。 Add this one's life to that of the others upon the Wailing Stone。〃
Simon rolled over onto his back and stared up at the clouded； starless sky as the world reeled about him。
No longer wanted 。。。 The words spun crazily in his head。 Someone somewhere was calling his name。 No longer wanted 。。。
〃Simon！ Get up！〃
He dimly recognized Miriamele's voice； heard its shrill terror。 His head lolled。 There was a form approaching him； a pale smear in his blurry sight。 For an appalling moment he thought it might be the great bull； but his vision cleared。 Maefwaru was stalking toward him； the long knife held up so that it glinted in the bonfire's wavering light。
〃The Red Hand wants your blood；〃 the Fire Dancer chieftain said。 His eyes were pletely mad。 〃You will help to build the Third House。〃
Simon struggled to free himself from the tangling grasses and clamber up onto his knees。 Miriamele had thrown off her false bonds； and now flung herself toward Maefwaru。 One of the Norns caught at her arm and tugged her to his black…cloaked breast； pulling her as close as a lover would…but to Simon's surprise； the immortal did no more than hold her helpless； the Norn's black eyes were intent on Maefwaru； who had continued toward Simon without sparing an instant's attention to the girl。
Everything seemed to pause； even the fire seemed to slow in its fluttering。 The Red Hand； the Norns； Maefwaru's cowering followers； all stood or lay still； as if waiting。 The blocky Fire Dancer chieftain raised his knife higher。
Simon tugged furiously at his restraints； straining until he thought he could feel his muscles pulling free from his bones。 Miriamele had cut through part of the rope。
If only 。。。 if only 。。。
The rope snapped