behind us. We were lucky to have gotten in. Do you know my
coadjutor's prothonotary, Patera Calde?"
"I've met him, Your Cognizance. I don't know him well."
"He's here. I was surprised to see him, and he to see me. There is
a woman with him called Chenille who says she knows you. They
went into the tunnel yesterday, at Limna. They had been trying to
reach the city."
"Chenille, Your Cognizance? A tall woman? Red hair?"
"Exactly so. She's an extraordinary woman. Soon after the
explosion, the convicts attacked us. They were friendly at first, but
soon demanded we give them Patera and the woman. We refused,
and Xiphias killed four. Xiphias is the fencing master. Am I making
myself clear?"
"Perfectly, Your Cognizance."
"We tried to dig our way out and found you. We thought you
were dead, and Patera and I brought you the Peace of Pas.
Eventually we stopped digging, having realized that the effort
was hopeless. For a dozen men with shovels and barrows, two
days might be enough."
"I understand, Your Cognizance.
"By then I was exhausted, though I had dug less than the woman.
The others left to look for another way out. She and Patera are
famished, and they have a tessera that they believe will admit them
to the Juzgado. They promised to return for your body and me. I
prayed for you after they had gone."
"Your Cognizance distrusts the gods."
"I do." Quetzal nodded, his hairless head bobbing on its long neck.
"I know them for what they are. But consider. I believe in them. I
have faith. You mentioned your quarter. How many there really
believe in the gods? Half?"
"Less than that, I'm afraid, Your Cognizance."
"What about you, Patera Calde? Look into your heart."
Silk was silent.
"I'll give you my thoughts, Patera Calde. This young man
believes, and he loves the gods even after seeing Echidna. I too
believe, though I distrust them. He would want me to pray for him,
and that's my office. I've done it often, hoping I wouldn't be heard.
This time it's possible one will restore him, to prove she's not at bad
as I think."
Faint yet unmistakable, the crack of a needler echoed down the tunnel.
"That will be Patera, Patera Calde. We've been lucky in the
matter of weapons. Xiphias has a sword, and had a small needler he
said was yours. You left it on your bed, and he took charge of it for
you. He gave it to the woman. We found a large one in your
waistband. Patera took it, surprising me again. Our clergy have
hidden depths."
In spite of pain and weakness, Silk smiled. "Some do, perhaps,
Your Cognizance."
"Last night before you saw me in the alley, Patera Calde. I met
your acolyte, young Gulo. He is most embarrassed."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Your Cognizance."
"You shouldn't be. His uncle is a major in the Second Brigade.
One uncle of many. Were you aware of it?"
"No, Your Cognizance. I don't know much about Patera."
"Neither do I, though he was one of our copyists until my
coadjutor sent him to you. He commands several thousand now. It's
a great responsibility for someone so young. More join every hour,
he tells me, because they know he's your acolyte."
Silk managed to swallow. "I hope he won't waste their lives, Your
Cognizance."
"So do I. I asked if it was hard. He said he discussed each
operation with those who would have to fight. He finds them
sensible, and he knows something of war from his uncle's table talk.
He fights in the front rank afterward, he says."
"Your Cognizance mentioned that he was embarrassed."
"So he is, Patera Calde." Quetzal shook himself, lifting one
corner of his mouth by the thickness of a thread. "He has
captured his uncle. Our clergy have hidden depths. The older
man is humiliated. It's an awkward situation, I'm afraid, but I
was amused."
"So am I, Your Cognizance. Thank you."
Quetzal rose. "We'll find our own amusing, when we find our way
out. May I look for water?"
"Of course, Your Cognizance."
"You won't try to stand until I'm back? Give me your word,
Patera Calde."
Silk sat up.
"Please, Patera--"
"I have to go with you, Your Cognizance. I have to find water,
wash, and drink, so I can do whatever I can for Viron and Hyacinth.
You've got nothing to carry water in, and all four of you couldn't
possibly carry me far."
"You've been suffocated, Patera Calde," Quetzal bent over him.
"We merely thought you dead, and I shouldn't have hinted at a
miracle. No god can turn back death, and if they could, no god
would to please us. You were still alive when we dug you out. You
revived naturally--"
Unaided, Silk staggered to his feet. "I had a cane, Your Cognizance.
Master Xiphias gave it to me. I didn't need it then, or at least
not much. Now I do."
Quetzal offered him the baculus. "Use this."
"Never, Your Cognizance. Councillor Lemur called me--No, I won't."
The tunnel behind them was nearly choked with earth; a trampled
path led Silk to an opening in the wall. "Is this where you found me,
Your Cognizance? In there?"
"Yes, Patera Calde. But if your young woman is in there, she is
surely dead by now."
"I realize that." Silk put his head through the opening, "and I
believe she's in the pit with Auk, anyway; but Master Xiphias values
that cane, I need it, and it's probably very close to the place where
you found me." He began to work his shoulders through.
"Be careful, Patera Calde."
The wall was shiprock, little more than a cubit thick. Beyond it
lay a cavity hollowed from the tumbled soil that seemed utterly
dark. When Silk tried to stand, he found his head capped by a rough
dome; earth and small stones showered him invisibly. "This could
collapse any moment," he told the swaying figure in the tunnel.
"So it could, Patera Calde. Come out, please."
His questing fingers had come upon stubby protuberances he
assumed were roots. Exploring his pockets, he discovered the cards
Remora had given him and used one to scrape away the soil. One
root wore a ring. He cleared away more soil until he could get a firm
grip on the hand, tugged, dug farther, and tugged again.
"There are new sounds in this tunnel, Patera Calde. You had
better leave that place."
"I've found someone, Your Cognizance. Somebody else." Silk
hesitated, unwilling to trust his judgement. "I don't think it's
Hyacinth. The hand is too big."
"Then it doesn't matter whose it is. We must go."
Getting a firm grip on the arm, Silk heaved with all the strength
that remained to him, and was rewarded by a cataract of earth and a
dead man's embrace.
I'm robbing a grave, he thought, spitting grit and wiping his eyes.
Robbing this man's grave from below--stealing his grave as well as
his body.
It should have been at least as amusing as Gulo's uncle the major,
but was not. Holding onto the jagged edge of the opening in the
tunnel wall, he succeeded in pulling his own partially buried body
free. Back in the tunnel (suddenly very glad of its cold, sighing airs
and watery lights) he was able to extract the corpse from the loose
soil that had reclaimed it. Quetzal was nowhere to be seen.
"He's gone to look for water," Silk muttered. "Perhaps water could