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of the gods, and ultimately those were the only eyes that mattered.

Eyes in the foggy little mirror in which he shaved caught his. As

be stared, Mucor's deathly grin coalesced below them; in a travesty

of coquetry, she simpered, "This isn't the first time I've seen you

with no clothes on."

He spun around, expecting to see her seated on his bed; she was

not there.

"I wanted to tell you about my window and my father. You were

going to tell him to lock my window so I couldn't get out and bother

you any more."

By that time he had recovered his poise. He got clean undershorts

from the bureau and pulled them on, then shook his head. "I wasn't.

I hoped that I wouldn't have to."

From beyond the bedroom door: '_My Calde?_"

"I'll be down in a moment, Captain."

"_I heard voices, My Calde. You are in no danger?_"

"This manse is haunted, Captain. You may come up and see for

yourself if you like."

Mucor tittered. "Isn't this how you talk to them? In the glasses?"

"To a monitor, you mean?" He had been thinking of one; could

she read his thoughts? "Yes, it's very much like this. You must have

seen them."

"They don't look the same to me."

"I suppose not." With a considerable feeling of relief, Silk pulled

on clean black trousers.

"I thought I'd be one for you."

He nodded in recognition of her consideration. "Just as you use

your window and the gods their Sacred Windows. I had not thought

of the parallel, but I should have."

Unreflected, her face in his mirror bobbed up and down. "I

wanted to tell you it's no good any more, telling my father to lock

my window. He'll kill you if he sees you, now. Potto said he had to,

and he said he would."

The Ayuntamiento had learned that he was alive and in the city,

clearly; it would learn that he was here soon, if it had not already. It

would send loyal members of the Guard, might even send soldiers.

"So it doesn't matter. My body will die soon anyway, and I'll be

free like the others. Do you care?"

"Yes. Yes, I do. Very much. Why will your body die?"

"Because I don't cat. I used to like it, but I don't any more. I'd

rather be free."

Her face had begun to fade. He blinked, and nothing but the

hollows that had been her eyes remained. A breath of wind stirred

the curtains, and those hollows, too, were gone.

He said, "You must eat, Mucor. I don't want you to die." Hoping

for a reply, he waited. "I know you can hear me. You have to eat."

He had intended to tell her that he had wronged her and her father.

That he would make amends, although Blood might kill him

afterward. But it was too late.

Wiping his eyes, he got out his last clean tunic. His prayer beads

and a handkerchief went into one trouser pocket, Hyacinth's

needler into the other (He would return it when he could, but that

problematic moment at which they might meet again seemed

agonizingly remote.) His waistband claimed the azoth; it was

possible that augury would provide some hint of what he ought to do

with it. He considered selling it again, and thought again of the

howling face that had been so like Mucor's in his minor, and

shuddered.

Clean collar and cuffs on his second-best robe would have to do.

And here was the captain, waiting at the foot of the stair and

looking nearly as spruce as he had in that place--what had it been

called? In the Rusty Lantern in Limna.

"I was concerned for your safety, My Calde."

"For my reputation, you mean. You heard a woman's voice."

"A child's, I thought, My Calde."

"You may search the upper floor if you wish, Captain. If you find

a woman--or a child, either--please let me know."

"Hierax have my bones if I have thought of such a thing, My

Calde!"

"She is a child of Hierax's, certainly."

The Silver Street door was barred, as it should have been; Silk

rattled the handle to make certain it was locked as well. The window

was shut, and locked behind its bars.

"I can station a trooper in here, if you wish, My Calde."

Silk shook his head. "We'll need every trooper you have and

more, I'm afraid. That officer in the floater--"

"Major Civet, My Calde.

"Tell Major Civet to station men to give the alarm if the

Ayuntamiento sends its troopers to arrest me. They should be a

street or two away, I suppose."

"Two streets or more, My Calde, and there must be patrols

beyond them."

"Very well, Captain. Arrange it. I'm willing to stand trial if I must,

but only if it will bring peace."

"You are willing, My Calde. We are not. Nor are the gods."

Silk shrugged and went into the sellaria. The Sun Street door was

locked and barred. Two letters on the mantel, one sealed with the

Chapter's knife and chalice, one with a flame between cupped

hands; he dropped them into the large pocket of his robe. Both the

Sun Street windows were locked.

As they hurried through the garden again and into the street, he

found himself thinking of Mucor. And of Blood, who had adopted

her; then of Highest Hierax, who had dropped from the sky a few

hours ago for Crane and the solemn young trooper with whom he

and Crane had talked in the Rusty Lantern. Mucor wanted to die, to

yield to Hierax; and he, Silk, would have to save her if he could.

Had it been wrong of him, then, to call her a child of Hierax?

Perhaps not. Women as well as men were by adoption the

children of the gods, and no other god so suited Mucor.

Chapter 3 -- A Tessera for the Tunnel

"Bad thing," Oreb muttered, watching the burning talus to see

whether it could hear him. When it did not react, he repeated more

loudly, "Bad thing!"

"Shut up." Auk, too, watched it warily.

Chenille addressed it, stepping forward with her launcher ready.

"We'd put out the fire if we could. If we had blankets or--or

anything we could beat it out with."

"_I die! Hear me!_"

"I just wanted to say we're sorry." She glanced back at the four

men, and Dace nodded.

"_I serve Scylla! You must!_"

Incus drew himself up to his full height. "You may rely upon me to

do everything in my power to carry out the goddess's will. I speak

here for my friend Corporal Hammerstone, as well as for myself."

"_The Ayuntamiento has betrayed her! Destroy it!_"

Hammerstone snapped to attention. "Request permission to

speak, Talus."

The slender black barrel of one buzz gun trembled and the gun

fired, its burst whistling five cubits above their heads and sending

screaming ricochets far down the tunnel.

"Maybe you better not," Auk whispered. He raised his voice,

"Scylla told us Patera Silk was trying to overthrow them, and

ordered us to help him. We will if we can. That's Chenille and me,

and his bird."

"_Tell the Juzgado!_"

"Right, she said to." Dace and Incus nodded.

A tongue of flame licked the talus's cheek. "_The tessera! Thetis!

To the subceltar..._" An interior explosion rocked it.

Needlessly, Auk shouted, "Get back!" As they fled down the

tunnel, fire veiled the great metal face.