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“And then it seemed to me all at once that it was Anchorstar, too, who led us. Suddenly I could feel him here in the south. Maybe he had just been brought here as captive, I don’t know. But all at once, there was the presence of Anchorstar in my thoughts and of Children in danger, Children sleeping, drugged. It was all around us suddenly, and we started out at once. I know Anchorstar was here. But when we came into the cave there was only the darkness again.” She pressed her fist to her mouth. “We must find him. Have you searched everywhere? But you can’t have.”

“We have,” Zephy said. “But we’ll search again.”

They set about it systematically, each person taking a tunnel, scraping at the walls, examining the stone for loose mortar on the chance that there lay, behind a wall, a tunnel they had not discovered. Still there was the feel of dark around them, indecipherable, threatening.

“He must be very special,” Yanno Krabe said, looking down at Meatha as they sat at supper, “a very special man.” Tall, dark-haired Yanno had taken to Meatha at once, had followed her since she awakened, seemed to idolize her so that the others smiled a little, watching them, feeling his eager worship.

“Anchorstar is very special,” Meatha said. “He is . . . If it were not for Anchorstar, you would have died here; all of us would.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because it was Anchorstar who told us what the Kubalese had in mind, what they were doing. It was Anchorstar who determined to search for you and to get the others away from Burgdeeth. And then it was Anchorstar’s message that told us of the danger and drew us here. He, and the sense of darkness that we felt.”

Zephy watched them and thought Yanno a handsome boy. But he was too worshipping, his mind too full of Meatha. She tried to keep her thoughts private, a thing she was learning was very necessary with so many living close together. Necessary and difficult. They all tried to shut away and not intrude on each other, but sometimes it could not be helped. Now she saw a slight twitch come to Yanno’s eyebrow and thought, guiltily, that he knew of her disgust. She glanced up and knew her thoughts had been open to Thorn. He grinned. And later when they were alone he said, “Wouldn’t you like a pandering man to follow you around making cow eyes?”

“Oh, yes,” she bantered, “would you care to do that? I would like . . .” But he didn’t need to be told what she liked. She stared at him and suddenly the emotion that had grown between them rose like a quick tide so she glanced down hastily. “Cow eyes,” she said with distaste, to hide her own confusion. “Thorn, do you think he felt my thought?”

“I don’t know. Maybe not. It doesn’t matter.” He put his hand on her shoulder, leaned to kiss her, and their minds met in a tide so sweet, so engulfing that she could not pull away, felt lost in him as if they were one. He kissed her and held her, and when they parted they were together still in their minds. And they thought, How can we be like this, be so happy when Anchorstar may be lost.

They had tried not to think he could be dead. If Anchorstar was dead, if there was no point in searching further, they should all be away at once. For surely other Kubalese would come. And yet they could not bring themselves to abandon the search.

“The not knowing about Anchorstar keeps us here so we may never get out,” she said miserably. “It’s as if the very thought of him puts us in danger . . .” Then she broke off and stared at Thorn, appalled at herself. “Oh, I didn’t mean it that way, not really, not like it sounded.

“Or did I mean it?’ Oh, Thorn, did I? I’m so tired, my mind is so tired trying to revive the Children: trying . . . I think what I mean is, if we don’t get out now, will we ever be able to? Will we just grow weaker and tireder until—until the dark—until the dark . . .” She shuddered, collapsing in tears suddenly. And she knew only that he held her, was stronger at that moment, as she clutched at him as a drowning person would clutch. She cried in great heaving gulps, couldn’t stop, and when the tears went dry at last, she gasped and gasped for breath, heaving, panic taking her. . . .

He slapped her, set her reeling. He caught her against falling, pulled her to him, and held her so her sobs subsided at last. How could he remain so strong?

“Another time,” he said softly. “Another time, it’ll be me falling apart and you to hold me. The way you brought me out of Anchorstar’s wagon, with my festering leg. One will always have the strength for both when it is needed—one, we are one . . .” And he kissed her then so there was no darkness, there was nothing save themselves in a perfect sphere of time.

Then at last he lifted her face from his sodden tunic and kissed her again. “Now,” he said as she stared up at him, “now we have work to do. We must find him, Zephy. We must find Anchorstar before we leave this place.”

*

But it was not until there was danger on the hills that Anchorstar was found.

For suddenly in the night the Children who stood sentry both below and above sensed Kubalese soldiers on the move. The destination of the riders was uncertain. If they were to come to the caves, the caves must be cleared. The Kubalese rode hard, were tired, wanting rest. But they could rest on the hills . . . it was not certain . . .

The riders came up the flat valley at dawn, toward the hills, a dozen armed men. As they approached the caves, they slowed. Yes, the cave was their destination, it could be felt now, their thirst for liquor, their longing for hot food. A longing, too, for sport that made the Children look at each other and shiver.

In the cave the brewing room was left as it had been found, dice sticks scattered, bunks rumpled, smelly clothes on pegs, dirty plates. Some of the Children went back to the slabs where they had lain drugged so long, and laid down on them once again, going quite still when they heard the soldiers. The rest moved together into three short corridors near the cave’s entrance, and there they waited silently. They had left the captive guard, drugged with MadogWerg, lying on his own bunk looking drunk. They left food on the cookstove, aromatic and hot and laced with MadogWerg. And the liquor cask waited invitingly.

If Thorn had a twinge of revulsion at giving MadogWerg to anyone, even Kubalese, he put it down. He took Zephy’s hand in the darkness and knew she, too, wondered if they sinned, doing such a thing. Then he felt her resolve as she thought of the Children like living dead who had lined the walls of the tunnel.

They could sense the Kubalese outside, dismounting, hobbling their horses, ducking as they came through the low tunnel, hot and tired. They could smell their sweat as they lumbered past shouting for the Kubalese guards.

“Ag-Labba! Ag-Labba, rouse your filthy soul, you worthless Karrach! Fill the mugs, fire the stew pot, you’ve a crew here starving and lusty!”

“Sewers of Urdd, it’s a dark and stinking place!”

“Bleed it, man, bleed it! Roll out a new keg, we’ve had no drink in a dog’s tracking time, you suckers!”

“Bring ogre’s breath, you sons of Urdd! Roll out the ogre’s breath!” There was coarse laughter and much stamping, and a loud guffaw that ended in a belch.

Zephy felt Thorn laugh at their crudeness, then felt the cold fear they both shared with the others as seven Children slipped out the entrance behind them, to lead the Kubalese horses away quietly. Zephy sensed the care the Children took as they loosened the horse’s saddles, cooled them, watered them, and took them to graze and rest on the hills—it might be a long night for these mounts.

Then Zephy felt Elodia touch her in the darkness, felt the alarm of the others suddenly. Something was in the tunnel with them. It was the darkness they had sensed so often; but it was close now, not held back. Very close and real, and one of the Children was slipping away. The dark was there, concentrated in that one, they could feel it now as if, in unusual effort, the dark Child could not keep his evil diffused. Who was he? Which one of them? Zephy could feel Toca’s fear. She slipped out behind Thorn after the dark one. She could feel Meatha and Elodia beside her. Toca took her hand. She could feel Clytey and the others following.