are bothering you。 I will take away all your dreams。 I can do that； you know。〃 She lowered her whispering voice even further； and Simon realized for the first time that the heavy breathing of his two friends had ceased。 He wondered if they were lying silent in the darkness； waiting to save him。 If that was so； he prayed they would act soon。 His heart seemed as nerveless as his leaden limbs； but fear beat through him； acting like a secret pulse。 〃They drove me out of Haethstad；〃 Skodi muttered。 〃My own family and neighbors。 Said I was a witch。 Said I put curses on people。 Drove me out。〃 Horribly； she began to snuffle。 When she spoke again； her words were garbled by tears。 〃I sh…sh…showed them。 When Father was drunk and sleeping； I stabbed Mother with his knife and then put it back in his hand。 He killed himself。〃 Her laugh was bitter but remorseless。 〃I could always see things others could not； think of things they would not。 Then； when the deep winter came and would not go away； I began to be able to do things。 Now I can do things no one else can do。〃 Her voice rose triumphantly。 〃I am growing stronger all the time。 Stronger and stronger。 When I give Lady Silver Mask and Lord Red Eyes the sword they're looking for； the singing black sword I heard in my dreams； then I'll be like they are。 Then the children and I will make everyone sorry。〃
As she spoke； she absently slid her cold hand from Simon's forehead down into his shirt； letting it play over his naked chest as if she petted a dog。 The wind had stilled； and in the dreadful silence of its abatement he suddenly knew that his friends had been taken away。 There was no one in the lightless room but Skodi and Simon。
〃But I will keep you；〃 she said。 〃I will keep you for myself。〃
15
Within God's Walls
FATHER Dinivan toyed with his food； staring into his bowl as though some helpful message might be written there in olive pits and breadcrumbs。 Candles burned fiercely the length of the table。 Pryrates' voice was loud and harsh as a brazen gong。
〃。。。So you see； Your Sacredness； all that King Elias wishes is your acceptance of one fact Mother Church's provenance may be men's souls； but she has no right to interfere in the disposition of men's corporeal forms by their legitimate monarch。〃 The hairless priest grinned in self… satisfaction。 Dinivan's heart sank to see the lector smile dully m return。 Surely Ranessin must know that Elias was as much as declaring that God's shepherd on earth had less right to power than an earthly king？ Why did he sit and say nothing？
The lector slowly nodded his head。 He looked across the table to Pryrates； then briefly to Duke Benigaris； new master of Nabban； who appeared a trifle nervous beneath the lector's scrutiny； hurriedly wiping grease from his chin with the back of a brocaded sleeve。 This Feast of Hiafmansa Eve was usually only a religious and ceremonial occasion。 Although Dinivan knew him to be utterly the creature of Pryrates' master Elias； at this moment the duke seemed to be wishing for more ceremony and less confrontation。
〃The High King and his emissary Pryrates wish only the best for Mother Church； Sacredness；〃 Benigaris said gruffly； unable to hold Ranessin's gaze； as though he saw his rumored murder of his father mirrored there。 〃We should listen to what Pryrates says。〃 He addressed his trencher once more； wherein he found more convivial pany。
〃We are considering all that Pryrates has to say；〃 the lector responded mildly。 Silence fell upon the table once more。 Fat Velligis and the other escritors present returned to their own meals； obviously pleased that the long…feared confrontation seemed to have been averted。
Dinivan lowered his eyes to the remains of his supper。 A young priest who hovered at his elbow refilled Dinivan's goblet with water…it had seemed a good night to avoid wine…and reached forward to take his bowl； but Dinivan waved him back。 It was better to have something to concentrate on； if only to avoid looking at viperous Pryrates； who was not bothering to hide his immense pleasure at disfiting the church hierarchy。
Absently pushing breadcrumbs with his knife； Dinivan marveled at how inseparably the great and the mundane were linked。 This ultimatum from King Elias and the lector's response might one day seem an event of unforgettable magnitude； like that day long ago when the third Larexes had declared Lord Sulis heretic and apostate； sending that magnificent and troubled man into exile。 But even during that momentous event； Dinivan reflected； there had probably been priests who scratched their noses； or stared at the ceiling； or silently bemoaned their aching joints as they sat within the very crucible of history…even as Dinivan now poked at his own supper…leavings and Duke Benigaris belched and loosened his belt。 So men always would be； ape and angel mixed； their animal nature chafing at the restraints of civilization even as they reached for Heaven or for Hell。 It was amusing； really 。。。 or should have been。
As Escritor Velligis tried to initiate a more soothing supper…table conversation； Dinivan suddenly felt an odd trembling in his fingers： the table was shuddering gently beneath his hands。 Earthquake was his first thought； but then the olive pits in his bowl began to slide together slowly； forming themselves into runes before his astonished eyes。 He looked up； startled； but no one else at the banquet table appeared to notice anything amiss。 Velligis droned on； his chubby face gleaming with sweat； the other guests watched him； politely feigning interest。
Creeping like insects； the leavings in Dinivan's bowl had merged to form two sneering words： 〃SCROLL PIG。〃 Sickened； he looked up to meet Pryrates' shark…black eyes。 The alchemist wore a look of vast amusement。 One of his white fingers was waving above the tablecloth； as if sketching upon the insubstantial air。 Then； as Dinivan watched； Pryrates waggled all his digits at once。 The crumbs and olive stones in Dinivan's bowl abruptly tumbled apart； whatever forces that had bound them now dispersed。
Dinivan's hand rose defensively to grasp the chain that lay beneath his cassock； feeling for the hidden scroll； Pryrates' grin widened in almost childish glee。 Dinivan found his usual optimism melting before the red priest's unmistakable confidence。 He suddenly realized what a thin and breakable reed his own life actually was。
〃。。。They are not； I suppose； truly dangerous；〃 Velligis was blathering； 〃but it is a dreadful blow to the dignity of Mother Church； these barbarians settling themselves afire in public squares； a dreadful blow…as much as daring the church to stop them！ It is a kind of contagious madness； I am told； carried by bad airs。 I no longer go out without a kerchief to wear over my nose and mouth 。。。〃
〃But perhaps the Fire Dancers are not mad；〃 Pryrates said lightly。 〃Perhaps their dreams are more。。。 real。。。 than you would like to believe。〃
〃That is 。。。 that is。。。〃 Velligis spluttered； but Pryrates ignored him； his obscenely empty eyes still fixed on Dinivan。
He fears no excess now； Dinivan thought。 The realization seemed an unbearable burden。 Nothing binds him any longer。 His terrible curiosity has bee a heedless and insatiable hunger。
Had that been when the world had begun to go wrong？ When Dinivan and his fellow Scrollbearers had brought Pryrates into their secret councils？ They had opened their hearts and treasured archives to the young priest； respecting the honed sharpness of Pryrates' mind for a long time before the rot at the center of him could no longer be mistaken。 They had driven him from their midst； then…but too late； it seemed。 Far； far too late。 Like Dinivan； the priest sat at the tables of the mighty； but Pryrates' red star was now ascending； while Dinivan's track seemed murky and obscured。
Was there anything more he could do？ He had sent messages to the two Scrollbearers still living； Jarnauga and Ookequk's apprentice； though he had heard from neither in some time。 He had also sent suggestions or instructions to others of good faith； like the forest…woman Geloe and little Tiamak in the marshy Wran。 He had brought Princess Miriamele safely to the S