Catrin felt oddly at home among the still trees, and she almost didn't want to leave the hall, but Brother Vaughn moved steadily toward the fourth archway on their right. She ran her fingers along the magnificent carvings and marveled at smooth lines and lifelike curves. Some of the leaves were so thin, she imagined she could see through them, and she wondered how they could have been created. To see such delicate forms made from rock seemed impossible, yet it stood before her in all its glory.

As they exited the cavernous dome, Catrin glanced back at the archway and saw that it, too, was guarded by a mighty serpent. She could feel its eyes on her back, and she looked over her shoulder twice as often as Benjin. When a loud sound echoed through the halls, they froze. Straining their ears, they tried to figure out where the noise had come from, but the acoustics of the mine made it nearly impossible to pinpoint, and Brother Vaughn grew nervous. He looked over his shoulder as often as Catrin and Benjin, which did not make either of them feel any better, but they left their concerns unspoken.

The halls once again became a monotonous blur, and the dull cadence of their steps, a lullaby. Exhaustion dogged Catrin, and every step was a struggle. She leaned on Benjin, and they shuffled along together. Her vision blurred as she walked in a stupor, kept upright by only Benjin and her staff. Not wanting to complain, she did her best to deal with the fatigue, but it was overpowering. Her eyelids were leaden, her eyes burned, and she let Benjin guide her.

"We have to stop," Benjin said.

Brother Vaughn suddenly became aware of Catrin's condition. "Yes, yes, of course. Please forgive me. I should have realized."

Catrin slid to the floor and curled into a ball as soon as Benjin stopped. The throbbing in her head made it difficult to formulate any coherent thoughts, and she cradled her head in her hands. Benjin offered her food, but she refused. Her appetite had fled, and only pain and misery filled its place. As much as she would have liked to sleep, though, she remained awake and restless. Obscure fears and anxieties nagged at her, and she was helpless against them.

Would the Zjhon capture them? Would Chase survive his quest for a ship? Did Ohmahold stand any chance against the encroaching siege? The uncertainty gnawed at her, and she felt responsible for too many lives-too many futures. Her confidence waned, and she wondered how she could have been so foolish as to act on her ridiculous plan. There was little chance of success and an even smaller chance of survival. Her mind tormented her with all the possible ways she could die. Fires scorched her skin, axes cleaved her, swords severed limbs, and arrows pierced her flesh.

Unable to contain her pain, she wept, and Benjin pulled her close. With his powerful arms around her, she felt almost safe; he would keep the horrors at bay. Still, it took her far too long to find sleep, which she knew she would regret on the morrow.

Rolling into a tucked position, Chase hesitated only a moment before he sprang. He took three steps then launched himself into the air, tumbling and swinging at the same time. The crack of the impact echoed off the mountains, and Captain Longarm dropped to one knee, clutching his thigh.

"I'm going to feel that in the morning," he said.

"Sorry," Chase said.

"You've gotten better, but I'm getting too old to take that kind of beating, maybe one of your friends will spar with you," Captain Longarm said, pointing to where Strom and Osbourne stood talking to a pair of girls who'd come to watch the spectacle.

"Oh no. Not me. No, sir," Strom said as they approached. "You'll have to find someone else to beat on. My hands are my trade."

"Your trade, huh? I thought you were going to be a stable hand the rest of your life," Chase said.

"You heard me. I'm to be a great smith. Perhaps, if you're nice to me, I'll make you a real sword."

"Don't look at me," Osbourne said as Captain Longarm turned a questioning gaze to him. "I'm still sore from last time."

"I suppose you're just going to have to find a real enemy to take your frustrations out on, young man," Captain Longarm said, and he turned to leave.

"Thanks for everything, Burrel. Sorry about the bruises," Chase said, but Captain Longarm just waved his apology off. Still breathing hard, Chase sat on a nearby stump and regained his breath. There was no excuse for his hitting Burrel as hard as he had, but he could not stand waiting any longer. As foolish as he thought Catrin's plans were, he was still determined to do his part, and soon he would leave the shelter of Ohmahold; he needed to be ready. For today, though, all he could do was wait.

"I see you no longer fly like a stone," said a familiar voice from behind him. "Perhaps you could show me how to defend myself against unwanted advances."

"Certainly, Winnette," he said. "First let me show you a proper defensive stance."

Perhaps waiting wouldn't be so terrible after all.

Catrin grew weary of the mines and the walking. They passed various chambers of different sizes along the way, but they stayed within the halls and plodded along in the gloom. Faint echoes teased them, and at times, Catrin thought she heard the slow drip of water.

After what seemed like a month, they reached an intersection, and Brother Vaughn turned. The new hall seemed like all the rest at first, but then Catrin noticed a change: They were ascending. The incline was slight and barely discernable, but Catrin felt it in the backs of her legs. Longing to see the sky, she hoped they were nearing the exit.

The incline continued, and from the shadows, a curve in the hall appeared. It was the first time the tunnels had been anything but straight, and Catrin grew anxious. Beyond the gentle curve, a narrow cavern emerged, and nestled within it was a pond of dark and foreboding water that lay under a haze of steam. Brother Vaughn extinguished his lantern and asked Benjin to douse his as well.

Total darkness crowded around them, and Catrin could see nothing in the pitch, but after a moment, Brother Vaughn rekindled his lantern. The sudden brightness hurt Catrin's eyes, but it was better than the impenetrable darkness.

"I believe it's safe to exit, but if I do not return, wait for half a day before following. There is an opening in the far wall, just below the surface. You must swim under the rock, and when you clear it, you will be outside. Use the wax in your packs to seal them as best as you can. I'll see you on the other side." After one final look at his sand clock, Brother Vaughn handed it to Benjin. Looking doubtful and concerned, he swam to the far end of the pond and disappeared below the surface.

Catrin held her breath. She didn't know what possible dangers could prevent Brother Vaughn from coming back, but icy fear clutched her bowels. She'd lost too many friends already, and she desperately wanted Brother Vaughn to return safely. Bubbles appeared in the water near the far wall, and Catrin jumped when Brother Vaughn's head popped up not far from where she stood.

Benjin assisted her with the sealing of her pack, and they joined Brother Vaughn in the water. It was not a complete surprise to find the water unusually warm-the steam had been a clue-but it still seemed a bizarre phenomenon. Brother Vaughn wasted no time, and he dived below the surface again. Benjin waited a moment then ushered Catrin through next.