realized he had underestimated the power of the witch. His efforts to reach Fenn were blocked and turned back by some residual force that emanated from her. Even in her enfeebled condition, she had managed to spin around herself and her warren a protective shield. He abandoned the effort, and devoted himself to finding a means of escape from the mountains. He searched the memory of Eos and he made discoveries that staggered him, taxing his powers of belief to the utmost.
He left the pavilion again, and went back into the rock tunnel that led to Eos's green chamber. Immediately the stench of corruption filled his nostrils. If anything, it had become even stronger and more noisome. He covered his nose and mouth with the hem of his tunic, and choked back waves of nausea. Eos's body almost entirely filled the cavern now, bloated with its own putrid gas. Taita saw that she was in the midst of a metamorphosis from human to insect. The green fluid that oozed from her pores and coated her body was hardening into a glistening shell. She was sealing herself into a cocoon. Only her head was still exposed. The ruined tresses of her hair had fallen out and littered the green tiles. Her eyes were closed. Her hoarse breathing made the foul air tremble. She had thrown herself into a profound hibernation, a suspended form of life that he knew could last indefinitely.
Is there some way in which I can destroy her as she lies helpless? he wondered, and searched his newly acquired knowledge for the means to do so. There is none, he concluded. She is not immortal, but she was created in the flames of the volcano and she can perish only in those flames. Aloud he said, 'Hail and farewell, Eos! May you slumber for ten thousand years that the earth will be, for a little space, rid of you.' He stooped and picked up one of the coils of her hair. He twisted it into a thick braid, then placed it carefully in the pouch on his belt.
There was just sufficient room to allow him to pass between her and the glittering malachite wall, then reach the far end of the chamber.
There he found, as he had already known he would, the hidden doorway.
It was so cunningly carved into the mirror-like wall that its reflection tricked the eye. Only when he reached out his hand to touch what had seemed solid green rock did the opening become apparent. It was only just wide enough to allow him to enter.
Beyond, he found himself in a narrow passage. As he moved down it, the light faded into darkness. He went on confidently, holding one hand out in front of him until he touched the wall where the passage turned at right angles. Here he reached up into the darkness and found the stone shelf. He felt the warmth of the clay fire-pot on the back of his hand. This guided him to the rope handle of the pot, and he brought it down. There was a faint glow in the bottom, which he blew gently into flame. By its light he found a stack of rush torches. He lit one, placed the fire-pot with two extra torches in the basket that stood ready on the stone shelf, then went on along the narrow tunnel.
It was descending at a steep angle so he used the rope that was strung along the right-hand wall to steady himself and maintain his balance.
At last the passage opened into a small bare chamber. The roof was so low that he had to bend almost double under it. In the centre of the floor he saw a dark opening that looked like the mouth of a well. He held the torch over it and peered down. The feeble light was swallowed by the darkness.
Taita picked up a shard of broken pottery from the floor, and dropped it into the shaft. He counted while he waited for it to strike the bottom.
After fifty, there had been no sound of it hitting the rock below. The pit was bottomless. Directly in front of him a sturdy bronze hook had been driven into the roof of the cave. From this a rope of plaited leather strips dangled into the pit. The roof above him was blackened by the smoke of the torches that Eos had held aloft as she had passed this way on her innumerable visits to the cave. She had possessed the strength and agility to descend the rope with her torch between her teeth.
Taita removed his sandals and dropped them into the basket. Then he wedged his torch into a crack in the side wall, so that it would afford him a little light during his descent. He slung the handle of the basket over his shoulder, reached for the rope and swung himself out over the pit. At intervals the rope was knotted, which provided a precarious hold for his hands and bare feet. He began to clamber downwards, moving his feet first, then his hands. He knew how long and arduous the descent would be and he paced himself carefully, pausing regularly to rest and breathe deeply.
Before long his muscles were quivering and his limbs weakening. He forced himself to go on. The light of the torch he had left in the chamber above was now a mere glimmer. He climbed down and down into utter darkness but, from Eos's memory, he knew the way. The muscles in his right calf spasmed with cramp and the pain was crippling, but he closed
his mind to it. His hands were numbed claws. He knew that one was bleeding from under the nails for droplets of blood fell into his upturned face. He forced his fingers to open and close on the rope.
Down he went and still down until, at last, he knew he could go no further. He hung motionless in the darkness, bathed in sweat, unable to attempt another change of grip on the swaying rope. The darkness suffocated him. He felt his hand, slippery with blood, slide as his fingers began to open.
'Mensaar!' He conjugated the words of power. 'Kydash! Ncube!' At once his legs steadied and his grip firmed. Still he could not force his worn-out body to reach downwards for the next knot.
'Taita! My darling Taita! Answer me!' Fenn's voice was as clear and sweet in his ears as if she hung beside him in the darkness. Her soul sign, the delicate outline of the water-lily bloom, glowed before his eyes. She was with him again. He had passed beyond the point where the enfeebled witch could block their astral contact.
'Fenn!' He sent a desperate cry across the ether.
'Oh, thank the benevolent Mother Isis,' Fenn called back. 'I thought I was too late. I sense you are in desperate straits. I am joining all my forces with yours, as you taught me.'
He felt his shaking legs still and harden. He lifted his feet off the knot and, hanging on his arms, reached down with his toes. The drop beneath sucked at him as he revolved on the rope.
'Be strong, Taita. I am with you,' Fenn exhorted.
His feet found the next knot, and he slid his hands down to take another grip. He had been counting, so he knew there were still twenty knots before he reached the end of the rope.
'Go on, Taita! For both our sakes, you must go on! Without you I am nothing. You must endure,' Fenn urged.
He felt her strength come to him in warm, astral waves. 'Nineteen .. .
Eighteen . ..' He counted the remaining knots as they passed through his bloody hands.
