“I think this’s as far as I can take you,” Swan told me. He spoke slowly, as though having trouble sorting out his thoughts. “I don’t get it. Stuff keeps going away. I know I was farther inside than this. I know all the things we did. But when I try to remember anything specific, I lose everything between the time I got to this point until sometime during the gallop back. Stuff comes to me all the time when I’m not trying. I do remember that. Maybe Catcher messed up my brain somehow.”

“There’s an all-time understatement,” Goblin muttered.

Swan ignored Goblin. He complained, “We were actually off the plain before I realized that we were the only ones who would be coming out.”

I was not sure I believed that but it did not matter now. I grunted, suggested, “How about you make a guess? Maybe your soul will remember what your brain can’t.”

“First you need to get some light in here.”

“What do I have wizards for?” I asked the gloom. “Certainly not anything useful or practical like providing a light. They wouldn’t need one. They can see in the dark.”

Goblin muttered something unflattering about the sort of woman who indulges in sarcasm. He told Swan, “Sit down and let me look at your head.”

“Let me!” Tobo enthused at the same time. “Let me try to make a light. I can do this one.” He did not wait for permission. Filaments of lemon and silver light crawled over his upraised hands, swift and eager. The darkness surrounding us retreated, I thought reluctantly.

“Wow!” I said. “Look at him.”

“He has the strength and enthusiasm of youth,” One-Eye conceded. I glanced back. He was still astride the black stallion, wearing a smug look but obviously exhausted. The white crow was perched in front of him. It studied Tobo with one-eye while considering our surroundings with the other. It seemed amused. Then One-Eye began to chuckle.

Tobo squealed in surprise. “Wait! Stop! Goblin! What’s happening?”

The worms of light were snaking up his arms. They would not respond to his insistence that they desist. He started slapping himself. One-Eye and Goblin began to laugh.

Meantime, the two of them had done something to Swan to clarify his mind. The man looked like he had just sucked down a tall, frosty mug of self-confident recollection.

Sahra saw nothing funny in Tobo’s situation. She screamed at the wizards to do something. She was almost incoherent. Which betrayed how much stress she inflicted upon herself.

Doj told her, “He isn’t in any danger, Sahra. He just let himself get distracted. It happens. It’s part of learning,” or words to that effect, several times, before Sahra calmed down and began to look defiant and sheepish at the same time.

Goblin told Tobo, “I’ll take it till you get your concentration back.” And in a moment there was light enough to see the walls of the huge chamber. Someone who is skilled at something always makes it look easy. The little bald wizard was no exception. He told One-Eye, “Help Swan keep his head clear.”

I thought the place looked like a nice change from sleep’ ing out in the weather. I wished there was fuel we could burn to heat it.

“Whither now?” I asked Swan. For some time I had been silently regretting not having caught Murgen while I was dreaming so I could have gotten reliable directions.

The white crow squawked and launched itself, leaving One-Eye cursing because it had swatted him in the face with its wings.

I was starting to understand the beast. “Somebody see where it goes. One of you sorcerer geniuses want to send a light with it?” Tobo had received control of his light again and had it working in good form but it took all his attention to manage it. I hoped he outgrew this more-confidence-than-sense stage before he took a really big bite of disaster.

Uncle Doj trailed the crow at a dignified pace. I supposed I ought to contribute something more than executive decisions, so I followed him. A ball of leprous green light from behind overtook me and made a nest in my tangled hair. My scalp began to itch. I had a suspicion One-Eye might be sneering at my personal hygiene, which, I confess, sometimes became the victim of a negligent attitude. Sort of. “This’ll teach me to take my darn helmet off,” I grumbled. I refused to allow him to flash me his smug, toothless grin by not looking back.

I had not been wearing an actual helmet. God save me, that would have been cold. I had been wearing a leather helmet liner, which had kept my ears from getting frostbitten. Barely. Winter. It was one of those things the planning team had not foreseen.

I hurried past Doj, who was startled when he saw my hair. Then he grinned as big as ever I had seen him do. I tossed him a bloodthirsty scowl. Unfortunately, to do so I had to turn around far enough to see One-Eye and Goblin suddenly stop exchanging handslaps and snickers. Even Sahra turned slightly sideways to conceal her amusement. All right. So suddenly I am the clown princess of the Company, eh? We would see. Those two would...

I realized that they had lured me into accepting their system of thought. Before long I would be setting traps so I could get even first.

The crow cawed. It was down on the cold stone floor. It danced back and forth, suddenly impatient. Its talons clicked softly. I dropped to my knees. It let me get almost within touching distance before it flopped farther into the darkness.

More light took life behind us as people and animals came inside, making the predictable racket. Every new arrival had to know what was going on.

The crow became a silhouette if I lowered my head and looked at it with my cheek against the floor.

I told Doj, “There’s light coming from somewhere. This must be where the Captured got into the inner fortress.” I got down on my belly. There was a definite gap in a wall of stone so dark it seemed unseeable even in the available light. I could not make out anything on the other side.

Doj got down and placed his own cheek on the floor. “Indeed.”

I called, “We need some more light over here. And maybe some tools. River. Runmust. Have those people start setting up some kind of camp. And see what you can do about shutting out the cold.” That would be difficult. There were several large gaps in the outside wall.

Goblin and One-Eye stopped grinning like fools and came forward dressed in their business faces. They kept Tobo right there with them, determined to teach him their trade quickly, hands-on.

With more light it was easier to see what the bird meant me to see, which had to be the crack Soulcatcher had sealed after working her wicked spells on the Captured. “There any spells or booby traps here?” I asked.

“The Little Girl’s a genius,” One-Eye grumbled. His speech had grown a little slurred. He needed rest badly. “The bird strutted through and didn’t go up in smoke. Right? That suggest anything?”

“No spells,” Goblin said. “Don’t mind him. He’s just cranky because him and Gota haven’t had no privacy for a week.”

“I’m gonna fit you out for all the privacy you’ll need for a couple of eons, Runt Man. I’m gonna plant your wrinkled old ass-”

“Enough! Let’s see if we can make the hole any bigger.”

The crow made impatient noises on the other side. It had to have some connection with the Captured even if it was not Murgen operating from some lost corner of time. Certainly I hoped it was not Murgen from the future. That would imply a less than successful effort on our part now.

I grumbled and snarled. I stamped back and forth while half a dozen men expanded the hole, every one of them grousing about the shortage of light. I did not contribute much as a human candle, either. Maybe the thing in my hair was Goblin and One-Eye offering commentary on how bright I was. Though I doubted that after only two hundred years they could yet have developed that much cleverness and subtlety.