warmed. Only a moment. The smile faded, the eyes were once more remote. As for me, I was having difficulty taking it all in. The whole thing a sham, a facade—the library and the hamam and the gracious lady with a reputation for good works—and behind it a covert temple in which the worship of the bee goddess was carried out right under the noses of Istanbul’s religious establishment, perhaps for the sole purpose of Irene’s personal entertainment.
“You’d better answer the riddle,” Irene said pleasantly, “or we’ll be here all day. Your men are growing agitated. I’d hate one of them to start throwing things.”
I turned to the robed creature. “What happens if I get the answer wrong?” I asked. “Couldn’t I just swing across anyway?”
There was a gleam of pointed teeth under the hood. “You would fall,” the creature said in a tone of absolute certainty. “Answer now.” It glanced toward Irene. “For those who follow,” it added, “there are new riddles.”
As a scholar, I had learned to focus my mind, though that skill had deserted me once or twice on the journey here. I blocked out Irene’s startling revelations. I blocked out Murat, who had killed a good man today. I set aside Stoyan and Duarte; I did not even think of Cybele’s Gift. I narrowed my thoughts to the riddle itself and the three possible answers I had: trust, faith, hope. Some parts of it were better suited by one, some by another. But, in fact, there was only one answer that worked for the whole verse. It had to be right. If it wasn’t, I was going to the bottom of the chasm.
“Hope,” I said.
There was a moment’s charged silence; then the creature said quietly, “Go now.”
I let out my breath in a rush. Then, without allowing myself to think too hard, I grasped the rope, backed up, and ran toward the chasm. Duarte was shouting instructions. But I was not looking at him. Stoyan had put the knife back in his sash; he stood like a rock on the other side, arms outstretched to catch me, his anguish and terror in full view on his broad features. If I fell, he would fail again, as he had done with Salem bin Afazi; as he had done with my father. I could not fall. I would break his heart.
On the brink, I slipped my foot into the loop and launched myself into space. It was over in a heartbeat, and I was on safe ground again, Stoyan’s strong grip steadying me, Duarte grabbing the rope and disentangling my foot. The pirate stood there with the tree root in his hand, gazing back across the chasm. The cat creature was speaking quietly to Murat and Irene.
“Of course,” mused Duarte as Stoyan brushed my hair from my eyes with gentle fingers, “I could hook the thing up on this side, out of reach, or only send it as far as the middle.”
“I think that would be considered cheating,” I said shakily. “I’m certain that to get to the end of this, we must follow the rules, even if they sometimes seem unfair.”
He swung the rope back across the divide. Not a flicker of expression crossed Murat’s face as he caught it. Irene was saying something to the robed creature; I imagined she was already answering her riddles.
“Second from the right,” Stoyan said, taking my hand. “Now run!”
We ran. The passages grew narrower, their corners sharper, the light dimmer. I held on to Stoyan as if he were my lifeline. The ground under our feet changed. There was a scuttling, a rustling, as if many tiny creatures were moving along the passage beside us, above us, under our feet. I slipped and skidded, knocking my elbow on the rock wall. Something crunched under my boot. Behind me, Duarte cursed. Still Stoyan’s confident hand drew me forward. I was out of breath, damp with sweat, feeling the vast weight of rock above me, wondering where the air came from down here and whether it would last. Then, suddenly, everything went dark.
There is the darkness of a moonless night out of doors, and there is the darkness of a house with its shutters closed and the lamps quenched. There is the darkness of sleep, relieved by the bright images of dreams. But no darkness is as complete, as blanketing, as terrifying as the utter darkness of underground.
Stoyan’s hand tightened on mine. He slowed his pace but kept going, and there was no choice but to follow. The scuttling, whirring sounds seemed louder now that the light was gone. Something buzzed by my ear. Something blundered across my face, brushing my eye. Spindly legs were crawling up my neck, over my hands, inside my tunic. Panic swept through me—I couldn’t breathe.
“I’m here, Paula.” Stoyan’s voice was firm, his grip the same. “Keep hold, I’ll guide you.”
“I can’t,” I squeaked, despising my weakness. “I hate this, I hate the dark—”
Stoyan swore, staggered, and let go of my hand. I froze. If this was the next challenge, to be all alone in a darkness so deep it was like a smothering blanket around me, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t be here, I couldn’t bear it a moment longer….
“Paula?” Stoyan’s voice was coming from somewhere ahead of and below us. It was a lot less steady now. “Duarte? Are you there?”
A hand closed on my shoulder; I started violently.
“It’s me, Paula,” said Duarte. “Stoyan, where are you? What’s happened?”
“There’s a sharp drop. Be careful. Hold on to Paula and edge forward slowly.” Then, after a little, “I think it’s a dead end.”
Dear God; all that way back, and Murat behind us with his expressionless eyes and his crossbow. “It can’t be,” I said in a thread of a voice as the darkness crowded in. “Not unless we chose the wrong way.”
“Wait a bit.”
I breathed again as Stoyan spoke. I could hear him moving about on some lower level of the cave system. I did not go forward. I had felt the edge of the drop but did not know how deep it was. Duarte and I stood waiting, his arm around my shoulders. That human warmth barely held hysteria at bay.
“Duarte? Paula?” Stoyan’s voice was coming from a new direction, over to our right and much lower down. “I think there’s a way through. But it’s tight. I can see a place beyond where it’s lighter. Duarte, you’ll need to help Paula down. Don’t let go of each other. Follow my voice.”
Duarte scrambled down, then lifted me after him. Hand in hand, we made our way across a more open cavern,
