It was doubtful that the mountain had ever completed a thought in his life. The lady was more facile.

“You say only you can keep me safe from these dangers?"

“I say it, Noble, and it is veriest truth.”

She frowned, then smiled with pretty malice. “Why, then, it is simple! Since the bag is mine—and only you may control it—you must be mine, too!”

She laughed and clapped her hands.

“Take him to the pit, Arto. And leave the bag here.”

* * *

MOONHAWK CAME INTO the place of darkness and she was afraid. Still, she held her head high and made her step firm, as befits a Witch-in-Circle, and gazed upon those that crept out from between the thatch-bald hovels with calm eyes and compassion.

“Goddess give you good even,” she said softly to the one who ventured nearest, though the taste of its emotions sickened her. Terror lanced the creature and it scuttled back to its fellows. The boldest lifted a hand, showing rock.

Moonhawk stopped, anger heating fear. “For shame! Is this how you treat a traveler, most blessed of the Mother! I claim travel-right, and mean you no harm.”

“Travel-right?” That was the boldest, rock yet steady. “You claim travel-right in Relzda?”

“If this be Relzda, then I do.”

The rock-bearer laughed like another woman’s weeping. “If you claim travel-right, you must go to Lady Drudae. I can show the way.’

Moonhawk bowed her head. “It is a kindness, sister. My thanks.”

“No kindness. Your cloak is fine.” With no further words, she scrabbled between two lean-together huts.

Listening in vain for the Goddess, Moonhawk followed.

Lady Drudae sat upon a wooden throne in the center of a drafty hall. The floor was dirt and the wall-rugs threadbare. Smoky oil-lamps gave uncertain light. There was a musk of rotting wood.