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〃What's that？〃 Miriamele cried in alarm。 Simon jumped。 Homefinder startled beneath him and slipped a little in the mud before finding her footing。
A dark shape had appeared in the mist before them； gesticulating wildly。 Binabik leaned forward against Qantaqa's neck and squinted。 After a long； tense moment； he smiled。 〃It is nothing。 A rag caught by the wind。 Someone's lost shin； I am thinking。〃
Simon squinted； too。 The troll was correct。 It was a tattered bit of clothing wrapped around a tree； the sleeves fluttering in the wind like pennants。
Miriamele made the sign of the Tree； relieved。
They rode on。 The town vanished into the thick greenery behind them as quickly and pletely as if the wet； silent woods had swallowed it。
They camped that evening in a sheltered gully at the base of the valley's western slope。 Binabik seemed preoccupied； Simon and Miriamele were both quiet。 They ate an unsatisfying meal and made some small talk； then everyone took refuge in the darkness and the need to sleep。
Simon again felt the awkward distance that existed now between himself and Miriamele。 He still did not quite know what to feel about the things she had told him。 She was no maiden； and it was by her own choice。 That was painful enough； but the way she had told him； the manner in which she had lashed out at him as though to punish； was even more infuriatingly confusing。 Why was she so kind to him sometimes； so hateful at others？ He would have liked to believe that she was playing the e…hither； go…away games that young court women were taught to play with men； but he knew her too well： Miriamele was not one for that kind of frippery。 The only solution that he could find to this puzzle was that she truly wanted him for a friend； but was afraid that Simon wanted more。
I do want more； he thought miserably。 Even if I won't ever have it。
He did not fall asleep for a long time； but instead lay listening to the water pattering through the leaves to the forest floor。 Huddled beneath his cloak； he probed at his unhappiness as he might at a wound； trying to find out how much pain came with it。
By the middle of the next afternoon they climbed out of the valley； leaving Hasu Vale behind。 The forest still stretched out at their right hands like a great green blanket； vanishing only at the horizon。 Before them was the hilly grass country that lay between the Old Forest Road and the headlands at Swertclif。
Simon could not help wishing that this journey with Binabik and Miriamele could be more like the first heady days they had traveled together after leaving Geloe's lake house； so many months ago。 The troll had been full of songs and silliness during that journey； even the princess…pretending then to be the servant girl Marya…had seemed excited and happy to be alive。 Now the three of them went forward like soldiers marching toward a battle they did not expect to win； each immersed in private thoughts and fears。
The empty； rolling country north of the Kynslagh did not inspire much cheer in any case。 It was fully as dreary and lifeless as Hasu Vale； equally as wet； but did not afford the hiding places and security to be found in the densely forested valley。 Simon felt that they were terribly exposed； and could not help marveling at the astonishing courage…or stupidity； or both…of walking virtually unarmed into the High King's gateyard。 If there were left any scrap of the panions or their tale when these dark times had someday passed； surely it would make a wonderful； unbelievable song！ Some future Shem Horsegroom； perhaps； might tell some wide…eyed scullion： 〃Do ye listen； lad； whilst I tell ye of Brave Simon and his friends； them who rode open…eyed and empty…handed into the very Jaws of Darkness。。。。〃
Jaws of Darkness。 Simon liked that。 He had heard that in a song of Sangfugol's。
He suddenly thought of what that darkness really meant…the things he had seen and felt； the dreadful； clutching shadows waiting beyond the light and warmth of life…and his skin went shudderingly cold from head to foot。
It took them two days to ride across the hilly meadow…lands； two days of mist and frequent cold rains。 No matter which direction they traveled； the winds seemed always to be blowing into their faces。 Simon sneezed the entirety of the first night and felt warm and unstable as melting candle wax。 He was a bit recovered by morning。
In mid…afternoon of the second day； the headlands of Swertclif appeared before them； the raw edge of the high； rocky hill on whose summit the Hayholt perched。 As he stared into the twilight； Simon thought he could see an impossibly slim white line looming beyond Swertclif's naked face。
It was Green Angel Tower； visible even though it stood the better part of a league beyond the nearest side of the hill。
Simon felt something tingle up his back； lifting the hairs on the nape of his neck。 The tower； the great shining spike that the Sithi had built when the castle was theirs； the tower where Ineluki had lost his earthly life…it was waiting； still waiting。 But it was also the site of Simon's own boyhood wanderings and imaginings。 He had seen it； or something like it； in so many dreams since he had left his home that now it almost seemed like just another dream。 And below it； out of sight beyond the cliff； lay the Hayholt itself。 Tears welled up in Simon； but only dampened his eyes。 How many times had he yearned for those mazy halls； the gardens and scullion hiding…holes； the warm corners and secret pleasures？
He turned to look at Miriamele。 She； too； was staring fixedly into the west； but if she thought of the pleasures of home； her face did not show it。 She looked like a hunter who had finally run a dangerous but long…sought quarry to ground。 He blinked； ashamed that she might see him tearful。
〃I wondered if I'd ever see it again；〃 he said quietly。 A flurry of rain struck his face and he wiped his eyes； grateful for the excuse。 〃It looks like a dream； doesn't it？ A strange dream。〃
Miriamele nodded but said nothing。
Binabik did not hurry them away。 He seemed content to wait and let Qantaqa nose the ground while Simon and Miriamele sat and silently gazed。
〃Let us make camp；〃 he said finally。 〃If we are riding another short time； we can find shelter at the base of the hills。〃 He gestured toward Swertclif's massive face。 〃Then in the morning we will have better light for 。。。 whatever we may be doing。〃
〃We're going to John's barrow；〃 Simon said； more firmly than he felt。 〃At least that's what I'm doing。〃
Binabik shrugged。 〃Let us be riding。 When we have a fire and food will be time for making of plans。〃
The sun vanished behind Swertclif's broad hump long before evening。 They rode forward in cold shadow。 Even the horses seemed uneasy： Simon could feel Homefinder's unwillingness； and thought that if he allowed her she would turn and race in the opposite direction。
Swertclif waited like an infinitely patient ogre。 As they drew closer； the great dark hill seemed to blot out the sky as well as the sun； spreading and swelling until it seemed