The voice belonged to Amberle. He blinked, forcing himself awake.
«Wil?»
She was cradling his head in her lap, her face bent close to his own, her long chestnut hair trailing down about him like a veil.
«Amberle?» he asked sleepily, pushing himself upright. Then he reached for her wordlessly and held her close against him.
«I thought I had lost you,” he managed.
«And I you.» She laughed softly, her arms tight about his neck. «You have been sleeping for hours, ever since they brought you here.»
The Valeman nodded into her shoulder, aware suddenly of the pungent smell of incense in the air. He realized it was the incense that was making him feel so groggy. Gently he released the Elven girl and looked about. They were enclosed by a windowless cell, black but for a single light that shone from within a glass container suspended from a ceiling chain, another of the lights that burned neither oil nor pitch and gave off no smoke. One wall of the cell was composed entirely of iron bars fastened vertically into the stone of the floor and ceiling. A single door opened through the bars, fastened in pace by hinges on one side and a massive key lock on the other. Within the cell had been placed a pitcher of water, an iron basin, towels, blankets, and three straw–filled sleeping mats. On one of the mats lay Eretria, her breathing deep and even. Beyond the wall of iron bars was a passageway that ran to a set of stairs, then disappeared into blackness.
Amberle followed his gaze to the Rover girl. «I think she is all right just sleeping. Until now, I have not been able to wake either of you.»
«Mallenroh,” he whispered, remembering. «Has she harmed you?»
Amberle shook her head. «She has barely spoken to me. In fact, I did not even know who it was that had taken me prisoner at first. The stick men brought me here, and I slept for a time. Then she came to me. She told me that there were others searching for me, that they would be brought to her as I had been brought. Then she left.» Sea–green eyes sought his own. She frightens me, Wil — she is beautiful, but so cold.“
«She is a monster. How did she find you in the first place?»
Amberle paled. «Something chased me down into the Hollows. I never saw it, but I could feel it — something evil, searching for me.» She paused. «I ran for as long as I was able, then I crawled. Finally I just collapsed. The stick men must have found me and brought me to her. Wil, was it Mallenroh I sensed?»
The Valeman shook his head. «No. It was the Reaper.»
She stared at him wordlessly for a moment, then looked away. «And now it is here in the Hollows, isn’t it?»
He nodded. «The Witch knows about it, though. She has gone to look for it.» He smiled grimly. «Maybe they will destroy each other.»
She did not smile back. «How did you manage to find me?»
He told her then everything that had happened since he had left her concealed in the bushes on the rim of the hollows — the encounter with Eretria, the deaths of Cephelo and the Rovers, the recovery of the Elfstones, the flight back through the Wilderun, the meeting with Hebel and Drifter, the journey down into the Hollows, the discovery of the stick man, and the confrontation with Mallenroh. He finished by telling her what the Witch had done to Hebel.
«That poor old man,” she whispered, and there were tears in her eyes. «He meant no harm to her. Why did she do that to him?»
«She doesn’t care a whit about any of us,” the Valeman replied. «All that interests her are the Elfstones. She means to have them, Amberle. Hebel was just a convenient example for the rest of us — particularly me.»
«But you won’t give them to her, will you?»
He looked at her uncertainly. «If it means saving our lives, I will. We have to get out of here.»
The Elven girl shook her head slowly. «I don’t think that she will let us go, Wil — not even if you give her what she wants. Not after what you have told me about Hebel.»
He was silent a moment. «I know. But maybe we can bargain with her. She would agree to anything to get the Stones…» He stopped abruptly, listening. «Shhh. Someone is coming.»
They peered wordlessly through the bars of their cell into the darkness of the corridor beyond. There was a slight shuffling sound upon the stairs. Then a figure appeared within the fringe of their single light. It was Wisp.
«Something to eat,” he announced brightly, holding forth a tray with pieces of bread and fruit on it. Shuffling to the cell, he slipped the tray through a narrow slot in the bars at the base of the door.
«Good food,” he told them, turning to leave.
«Wisp!» Wil called after him. The furry creature turned, staring at the Valeman quizzically. «Can you stay and talk with us?» Wil asked.
The wizened face broke into a grin. «Wisp will talk with you.»
Wil glanced at Amberle. «The ankle — can you walk?»
She nodded. «It’s much better,” she answered him.
He took her hand and led her to the tray of food. Wordlessly, they seated themselves. Wisp hunched down on the lowest step of the darkened stairway, his head cocking. Wil helped himself to a piece of the bread, chewed, and nodded in appreciation.
«Very good, Wisp.»
The little fellow grinned. «Very good.»
Wil smiled. «How long have you been here, Wisp?»
«A long time. Wisp serves the Lady.»
«Did the Lady make you — as she made those stick men?»
The furry creature laughed. «Stick men — clack, clack. Wisp serves the Lady — but not made of wood.» His eyes brightened. «Elf, like you.»
Wil was surprised. «But you are so small. And what about the hair?» He pointed to his own arms and legs, then to Wisp. «Did she do that?»
The Elf nodded happily. «Cute, she says. Makes Wisp cute. Roll and jump and play with stick men. Cute.» He stopped and glanced past them to where Eretria slept. «Pretty thing.» He pointed. «Prettiest of all.»
«What do you know about Morag?» the Valeman pressed, ignoring Wisp’s obvious interest in the Rover girl.
Wisp’s face screwed itself up into a grimace ace. «Evil Morag. Very bad. A long time she lives within the Hollows, she and the Lady Sisters. Morag in the east, the Lady in the west. Stick men for both, but just Wisp for the Lady»
«Do they ever go out of the Hollows — Morag and the Lady?»
Wisp shook his head solemnly «Never.»
«Why not?»
«No magic beyond the Hollows.» Wisp grinned cunningly.
That told Wil something he had not suspected. The power of the Witch Sisters had its limits; it did not extend beyond the Hollows. That explained why no one had ever encountered them anywhere else within the Westland. He began to see a glimmer of hope. If he could find a way to get clear of the Hollows…
«Why does the Lady hate Morag so?» Amberle was asking.
Wisp thought a minute. «Long ago, there was a man. Beautiful, the Lady says. The Lady wanted him. Morag wanted him. Each tried to take the man. The man… ” He clenched his hands, fingers joining, then wrenched them apart. «No more. Gone.» He shook his head. «Morag killed the man. Evil Morag.»
Evil Mallenroh, Wil thought. In any case, it was clear enough how the Witch Sisters felt about each other. He decided to find out what else Wisp knew about the Hollows.
«Do you ever go out of the tower, Wisp?» he asked.
The wizened face broke into a proud grin. «Wisp serves the Lady.»
Wil took that answer as a yes. «Have you ever gone to Spire’s Reach?» he asked.
«Safehold,” Wisp replied at once.
There was a hushed silence. Amberle gripped Wil’s arm and glanced at him quickly. The Valeman was so stunned by the abruptness of the response that he was left momentarily speechless. Collecting himself, he hunched
