to all manner of things。 Children too big to be carried off to the hunt by their mothers played games up and down the mountain under the old folks' bemused supervision； shinnying up the slender ladders or swinging and tumbling on the swaying thong bridges； heedless of the fatal distances that stretched beneath them。 Simon found it more than a little difficult to watch these dangerous amusements； but through all the long afternoon not a single troll child came to harm。 Though the details were alien and unfamiliar； he could sense the order here。 The measured beat of life seemed as strong and stable as the mountain itself。
That night Simon dreamed once more of the great wheel。
This time； as in a cruel parody of the passion of Usires the Son of God； Simon was bound helplessly to the wheel； a limb at each quarter of the heavy rim。 It turned him not only topside…down； as Lord Usires had suffered upon the Tree； but spun him around and around in an earthless void of black sky。 The stars' bleak radiance blurred before him like the tails of ets。 Something else…some shadowy； icy thing whose laugh was the empty buzzing of flies…danced just beyond his sight； mocking him。
He called out； as he often did in such terrible dreams； but no sound came forth。 He struggled； but his limbs were without strength。 Where was God； who the priests said saw every act？ Why should He leave Simon in the grasp of such dreadful darknesses？
Something seemed to form slowly out of the pale； attenuated stars； his heart filled with awful anticipation。 But what emerged from the spinning void was not the expected red…eyed horror； but a small； solemn face： the little dark…haired girl he had seen in other dreams。
She opened her mouth。 The madly revolving sky seemed to slow。
She spoke his name。
It came to him as down a long corridor； and he realized he had seen her somewhere。 He knew that face…but who 。 。 。 where。 。 。 ？
〃Simon；〃 she said again； somehow clearer now。 Her voice was filled with urgency。 But something else was reaching out for him； too…something closer to hand。 Something quite near 。 。 。
He awoke。
Someone was looking for him。 Simon sat up on his pallet； breathless； alert for any sound。 But for the endless sighing of the mountain winds and the faint snoring of Haestan； wrapped in his heavy cloak near the coats of the evening's fire； the cavern was still。
Jiriki was absent。 Could the Sitha have called to him from outside the cave？ Or was it only the residue of dream？ Simon shivered and considered pulling the fur coverlet back over his head once more。 His breath was a dim cloud in the ember…light。
No； somebody was waiting outside。 He did not know how he knew； but he was sure： he felt tuned like a harp string； trembling。 The night seemed tight…stretched。
What if someone did wait for him？ Perhaps it was someone…some thing…from which it would be better to hide？
Such thoughts made little difference。 He had gotten it into his head that he must go out。 Now the need tugged at him； impossible to ignore。
My cheek aches terribly； anyway； he told himself。 I won't be able to fall asleep for a long while。
He snaked his breeches out from under the sleeping…cloak where they stayed warm in the bitter Yiqanuc night； wrestling them on as silently as he could； then pulled his boots onto his cold feet。 He briefly debated putting on his mail shirt； but the thought of its chilly rings； rather than any surety of safety； decided him against it。 He furled the cloak around him； suiting quietly past sleeping Haestan and out under the door…skin into the cold。
The stars over high Mintahoq were mercilessly clear。 As Simon stared up； amazed； he felt their distance； the impossible vastness of the night sky。 The moon； not quite full； hovered low over distant peaks。 Bathed in its diffident light； the snow on the heights gleamed； but all else lay sunken in shadow。
Even as he turned his eyes down and took a few steps to the right； away from the cave…mouth； he was stopped short by a low growl。 A strange silhouette loomed on the pathway before him； moonbrushed at the edges； black at the core。 The deep rumble came again。 Eyes flared green as they caught the moonlight。
Simon's breath snagged in his throat for a moment； until he remembered。
〃Qantaqa？〃 he said quietly。
The growl changed into a curious whine。 The wolf tipped its head。
〃Qantaqa？ Is it you？〃 He tried to think of some of Binabik's troll speech； but could summon nothing。 〃Are you hurt？〃 He silently cursed himself。 He had not once thought of the wolf since he had been brought down from the dragon's mountain； although she had been a panion… and； in a way； a friend。
Selfish！ he chided himself。
With Binabik imprisoned； who knew what Qantaqa had done？ Her friend and master had been taken from her； just as Doctor Morgenes had been taken from Simon。 The night seemed suddenly colder and emptier； full of the world's heedless cruelty。
〃Qantaqa？ Are you hungry？〃 He took a step coward her and the wolf shied back。 She growled again； but it sounded more like excitement than anger。 She took a few prancing steps； the shimmer other gray coat almost invisible； then growled again before bounding away。 Simon followed her。
It occurred to him as he went； stepping carefully on the wet stone pathways； that he was doing a foolish thing。 The twisting roadways of high Mintahoq were no place for a midnight walk； especially without a torch。 Even the native trolls knew better： the cave…mouths were lightless and silent； the paths empty。 It was as if he had wakened from one dream to enter another； this shadowy pilgrimage beneath the distant and uncaring moon。
Qantaqa seemed to know where she was going。 When Simon lagged too far behind she trotted back； stopping just out of reach until he caught up； her hot breath pluming the air。 As soon as he drew within an arm's length she was off again。 Thus； like a spirit of the aftcrworld； she led him away from the fires of his own kind。
It was only when they had walked for some time； traveling well around the curve of the mountain from the sleeping…cave； that Qantaqa bounded all the way back to Simon。 She did not pull up short this time。 Her great frame struck him so suddenly that even though she had merely bumped against him； he fell back onto his seat。 She stood over him for a moment； her face buried in his neck； cold nose rooting ticklingly near his ear。
Simon reached up to scratch her ears and felt her tremble even through her thick fur。 A moment later； as if her need for fort had been satisfied； she leaped away again and stood whining quietly until he rose； rubbing his tailbone； and followed。
It seemed that Qantaqa had led him halfway around Mintahoq。 She stood now at the edge of a great blackness； yipping in excitement。 Simon walked forward cautiously； feeling the raw stone face of the mountain with his right hand as he went。 Qantaqa paced in seeming impatience。
The wolf was standing at the rim of a great pit； which burrowed away from the side of the path into the very mountain。 The moon； sailing low in the sky like an overloaded carrack； could only silver the stone around the hole's mouth。 Qantaqa barked again with barely contained enthusiasm。
To Simon's staggering surprise； a voice echoed thinly from below。
〃Go away； wolf！ Even sleep is taken from me； Aedon curse it！〃
Simon threw himself to the cold gravel and crawled forward on elbows and knees； stopping at last with his head hanging over blind nothingness。
〃Who's there？〃 he cried。 His words reverberated as though they journeyed a great distance。 〃Sludig？〃
There was a pause。
〃Simon？ Is that you who calls？〃
〃Yes！ Yes； it's me' Qantaqa brought me' Is Binabik with you？ Binabik！ It's me。 Simon！〃
A silent moment passed； then Sludig spoke again。 Now Simon could hear the strain in the Rimmersman's voice。 〃The troll will not speak。 He is here； but he will not speak to me； to Jiriki when he came； to anyone。〃
〃Is he sick？ Binabik； it's Simon！ Why don't you answer me？〃
〃He is sick in his heart； I think；〃 Sludig said。 〃He looks as he always did…thinner； perhaps； but so I am