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Simon stopped to catch his breath and rest his aching leg for perhaps the dozenth time since entering the stairwell。 As he crouched； panting； light suddenly flickered around him。 He thought wildly that his torch had blazed again； until he remembered that the dead brand was stuck beneath his belt。 For a startlingly beautiful moment the whole stairwell seemed full of pale golden light； and he looked up the shaft into infinite distance； up past a shrinking spiral of stairs to a hole that led straight to heaven。 Then； with a silent concussion； a ball of angry flame bloomed in the heights above him； turning the very air red； and for a moment the stairwell became hot as forge fire。 Simon shouted in fear。
No！ the voices screamed。 No！ Speak not the word！ You will summon Unbeing！
There was a crack louder than any thunder； then a blue…white flash that dissolved everything in pure light。 An instant later everything was black once more。
Simon lay on the stairs； panting。 Was it truly dark again； or had the flare blinded him？ How could he know？
What does it matter？ asked a mocking voice。
He pressed his fingers against his closed eyelids until faint sparkles of blue and red moved in the darkness； but it proved nothing。
I will not know unless I find something that I know I should be able to see。
He had a hideous thought。 What if； blinded； he crawled past a way out； a lighted doorway； a portal open to the sky？
Can't think。 I'll climb。 Can't think。
He struggled upward。 After a while he seemed to lose himself entirely； drifting away to other places； other times。 He saw Erchester and the countryside beyond as they had looked from the bellchamber atop Green Angel Tower…the rolling hills and fenced farms； the tiny houses and people and animals laid out below him like wooden toys on a green blanket。 He wanted to warn them all； tell them to run away； that a terrible winter was ing。
He saw Morgenes again。 The lenses that the old man wore glinted in a beam of afternoon light； making his eyes flash as though some greater…than…ordinary fire burned within him。 Morgenes was trying to tell him something； but Simon； young； stupid Simon； was watching a fly buzzing near the window。 If only he had listened！ If only he had known！
And he saw the castle itself； a fantastic hodgepodge of towers and roofs； its banners rippling in a spring wind。 The Hayholt…his home。 His home as it had been； and would never be again。 But； oh； what he would give to turn Time in its track and send it rolling backward！ If he could have bargained his soul for it 。。。 what was a soul worth； anyway； against the happiness of home restored？
The sky behind the Hayholt lightened as if the sun had emerged from behind a cloud。 Simon squinted。 Perhaps it was not spring after all…perhaps it was high summer？。。
The Hayholt's towers faded； but the light remained。
Light！
It was a faint； directionless sheen； no brighter than moonglow through fog…but Simon could see the dim form of the step before him； his dirt…crusted； scabby hand flattened upon it。 He could see！
He looked around； trying to determine the source of the light。 As far as he could see ahead of him； the steps wound upward。 The light； faint as swamp…fire； came from somewhere above。
He got to his feet； swayed woozily for a moment； then began to walk upright once more。 At first the angle seemed strange and he had to clutch the wall for support； but soon he felt almost human。 Each step； laborious as it seemed； was taking him closer to the light。 Each twinge of his wounded ankle was taking him nearer to 。。。 what？ Freedom； he hoped。
What had seemed an unlimited vista during the blinding flash of light now abruptly closed off above him。 The stairs opened out onto a broad landing； but did not continue upward。 Instead； the stairwell had been sealed off with a low ceiling of crude brick； as though someone had tried to cork the stair…tower like the neck of a bottle…but light leaked through at one side。 Simon shuffled toward the glow； crouching so that he would not bump his head； and found a place where the bricks had fallen down； leaving a crevice that seemed just wide enough for a single person to climb。 He jumped； but his hands could only touch the rough brick lining the hole； if there was an upper side； it was out of his reach。 He jumped again； but it was useless。
Simon stared up at the opening。 A heavy； defeated weariness descended on him。 He slumped down to the landing and sat for a moment with his head in his hands。 To have climbed so far！
He finished off the heel of bread and weighed the onion in his hand； wondering if he should just eat it； at last； he put it away again。 It wasn't time to give up yet。 After a few moments of thought； he crawled over to the scatter of bricks that had crumbled loose from the ceiling and began piling them one atop the other； trying to find an arrangement that was stable。 When he had made the sturdiest pile he could； he clambered atop it。 Now； as he reached up； his hands stretched far into the crevice； but he still could not feel any upper surface。 He tensed his muscles； then leaped。 For a moment； he felt a lip at the upper part of the hole； an instant later his hands failed their grip and he slid back down； tumbling from the pile of bricks and twisting his sore ankle。 Biting his lip to keep from shouting at the pain； he laboriously stacked the bricks again； climbed atop them； crouched； and jumped。
This time he was prepared。 He caught the top of the hole and hung； wincing。 After taking a few strong breaths； he pulled upward； his whole body trembling with the strain。
Farther； farther； just a little farther 。。。
The broken edges of brick passed before him。 As he pulled himself higher； his elbows pushed against the brick； and for a moment it seemed that he would be trapped； wedged and left hanging in the hole like a game bird。 He sucked in another breath； clenched his teeth against the pain of his arms； and pulled。 Quivering； he inched higher； he braced himself for a short moment against the back of the hole； then pulled again。 His eyes rose past the top of his hole； then his nose； then his chin。 When he could； he threw his arm out onto the surface and clutched； pressing his back against the brick； then brought the other arm out as well。 Using his elbows as levers； he worked his way up out of the crevice； ignoring the scrape of stone along his back and sides； then slid forward onto his chest and kicked like a swimmer until the whole of his length was lying on dank stone； safe。
Simon lay for a long time； sucking air； trying not to think about how much his arms and shoulders hurt。 He rolled over on his back and stared up at another ceiling of stone； this one only a little higher above him than the last had been。 Tears trickled down his cheeks。 Was this to be the next variation in his torments？ Would he be forced to pull himself up by sheer strength through hole after hole； forever？ Was he damned？
Simon pulled the wet shirt from his breeches and squeezed it to get a few drops into his mouth； then sat up and looked at what w