The cub mewed again, crying for its mother.

Tears came to Goldman's eyes. Even though he and Dare Wing had created this scene with their magic, the distress of the bear cub moved Goldman more than he thought possible.

"The choice is this," DareWing said quietly. "There lies the bear cub, only minutes from death — for that boulder will fall shortly. What should you do, Mot? Barzula? Sit here and wait for its fall, knowing that in the meantime the bear cub will suffer mightily and that when the boulder rolls slowly over it, as the boulder inevitably will, the cub will suffer even worse in death? Or will you try to save the cub, knowing the boulder might yet tumble prematurely and crush you? You have the time — you hope. What do you want to do? Risk your own life to try to save the cub, or ensure your own safety by standing by and witnessing the cub's misery and eventual death?"

The two hounds looked at DareWing, glanced at the bear cub, now sobbing almost like a human child, and then looked back at DareWing.

Then, very, very quickly, they glanced at Goldman.

Their eyes returned to DareWing, and they both slobbered and grinned.

And sat down.

"We wait," Mot said, "for we feed off misery and pain."

"Not what you expected?" Qeteb said to DragonStar. "Did you really think that bear cub's suffering would move them?"

"Wait," DragonStar said.

"Yes," Qeteb said, and grinned malevolently beneath his visor. "Why don't we do just that?"

Goldman looked at the cub. It was wriggling, trying so desperately to free itself, that Goldman's heart went out to its bravery and suffering.

How could it understand that it was merely part of a spell, a test?

In its own mind, the bear cub existed.

And suffered and sorrowed.

It wanted its mother. It wanted to be free, and free of the agony coursing through its mangled body.

"Gods," Goldman whispered.

Qeteb's grin stretched even further, and he felt the power of success flood his veins.

Now Mot and Barzula lowered themselves to their bellies, and Mot yawned.

"I wish that boulder would hurry up and fall," he said. "The wait bores me."

But teeter and shudder as it might, the boulder did not fall, and the bear cub continued to mew and sob in its pain and sorrow.

Goldman looked desperately at Dare Wing. "I can't just stand here ..." he said.

"Goldman!" DareWing cried, appalled. "We can't —"

"I can't listen to it any more," Goldman whispered. "I won't!"

He turned, and dashed for the rock scree.

"Goldman!" DareWing screamed, and lifted into the air.

Goldman scrabbled up the rock scree, not hearing the laughter of the hounds beneath him.

All he could see, all he could hear, was the bear cub writhing just above him. If only he could reach it, comfort it somehow, then all would be well ... all would be well...

DareWing, hovering just above Goldman, reached down and tried to grab Goldman's tunic.

"Goldman! Leave it alone! Leave it —"

DareWing could have flown to safety. But he didn't. He chose to stay with his friend, whohad chosen, from pity, to save the cub.

The choice was made, and now others would live and die by it.

Goldman had scrabbled within an arm's length of the bear cub, despite DareWing's hand now buried in the back of his tunic. He reached forward, touching the cub's flailing paw.

The cub screamed ...

... and the boulder toppled.

Not slowly, not reluctantly, but with a haste and purpose that was demonically assisted.

It struck the cub, sending a spray of blood and flesh outwards, and then in the next heartbeat it struck Goldman, and, as it rolled inexorably downward, it caught DareWing's hand, and dragged him under its surging weight.

There was a brief crack, as if of splintering bones, and then the boulder was tumbling madly down the scree, leaving behind it a wet slick of blood and flesh in the shaft of soft moonlight.

Both hounds nonchalantly moved out of the way as the boulder rolled past them, and then sat down and shook with laughter.

"And in that instant," Qeteb said, turning his head to stare at DragonStar's shocked face, "and for the love of a bear cub, we're even! Even! Faraday ... Faraday shall prove the decider." And he tipped back his head and roared with laughter.

The Butler opened the gate and prepared to welcome the visitors through.

But the three shook their heads, one saying: "Thank you, good sir, but we would wait awhile.

One of our number has yet a task unfinished, and must return."

"Then perhaps we can talk," said the Butler, "to pass the time. I have," he bent down andlifted something from the flowers about his legs, "a jug of creamy ale I rescued from the cook."

"Oh, well done!" cried Goldman.

Chapter 62

Katie, Katie, Katie..

They drifted through unknown waterways, closer and closer to the Maze. The buildings and structures to either side of the waterways grew ever more strange, and ever more depressing: great, grey statues of fierce-chinned men, staring into the distance, shields and spears in hand. Other statues as tall as buildings, crouched in contemplation, or with their faces buried in hands, as if all thought inevitably led to suicide.

Still more lay stretched out along the ground, cracked and crumbled, their stony faces reflecting some long distant horror, and with twisted crosses tattooed deep into their biceps and chests.

In one cavern Azhure's gaze was caught by the remnants of a great statue of a woman — only her head, neck, and one shoulder and arm, were in one piece, while other bits of her toppled across what had once been a huge parade ground. The statue's head was majestic, crowned by a stone diadem, her eyes wide and staring. Her outflung stone arm held a great torch, long extinguished.