She swayed, blinked and was blind. She had lost the wall. She gave a soft shriek at the sudden blackness, the smell of mold and damp and the silence. There was a pebbly, sliding sound in the distance. She tottered toward the wall, caught herself against it, and the light suddenly sprang back into being. The corridor was empty in both directions. She had imagined it all. She lifted her free hand to her forehead and touched the injury there. She should not have tried this. It was too much for her. Best to find a way out, and go back to her chamber and bed. If she met anyone, she wouldn't have to pretend that her mind was wandering. She was now seriously afraid that it was.

She stepped out resolutely, trailing her fingers on the strip. She no longer hesitated at corners or peered into rooms. She hurried through the labyrinth of corridors, turning down those that looked largest and most used. The music grew loud at one point, but then a wrong turning led her astray from it. She came at length to a broad corridor, well lit. An odd pattern that suggested winged creatures in flight decorated the walls.

The wide corridor culminated in a tall arched door of embossed metal. Malta halted and stared at it. She knew the insignia on it. It matched the one on the Khuprus coach door. It was a big chicken with a crown, looking as if it wanted to fight. For such a silly motif, it looked both haughty and threatening. She almost admired it.

From beyond the door came the sounds of a party in progress. People were talking and laughing. Music was playing merrily and she heard the lively slap of the dancers' feet against the door. She looked down at her dress once more. Well, there was no help for it. She just wanted to get out of this place and go back. She should be accustomed to humiliation by now. She set one hand to her brow as if she felt faint. She put her other hand on the great door and pushed.

She was plunged into sudden blackness, stumbling forward as the big door gave swiftly and easily at her touch. The cold and the damp rose up all around her. She trod in a deep puddle of cold water. "Help!" she cried out foolishly. But the music and the voices were stilled. The room smelled like a stagnant pond. Either she was blind, or the darkness was absolute.

"Hello?" she called again. Hands held out before her, she edged forward. But there were steps, going down, and before she could help herself, she toppled. Touch told her the steps were broad and shallow. She did not fall far. She did not stand again, but felt her way with her hands as she crawled down them. At the bottom of the steps, she crawled a short way. Then she stood and went even more slowly, feeling her way in front of her through the dark. "Hello?" she called again. Her voice bounced in the room. It must be immense.

Her groping hands suddenly encountered a rough wooden barrier.

"Hello, Malta Vestrit," the dragon said to her. "So we meet at last. I knew you'd come to me."

"DON'T SPEAK LIKE THAT ABOUT YOUR BROTHER!" JANI KHUPRUS SNAPPED. She slapped her needlework down onto the table beside her.

Bendir sighed. "I'm only telling you what other people are saying. Not what I'm saying. If someone poisons him, it won't be me." He tried for a grin.

Jani clutched at her chest. "That isn't even remotely funny. Oh, Sa, why did not we get that log cut up before he came back?"

"He planned to stay in Bingtown for several weeks, not one night. I thought I had time. That log is bigger and harder than any other wizardwood we've ever cut. Once the pigeons carried us the Bingtown news, I knew we had other things to worry about."

"I know, I know." His mother dismissed all his excuses with a flap of her hand. "Where is he now?"

"Where he is every night. He's in his room, drinking by himself. And talking to himself. Wild words about dragons and Malta. And killing himself."

"What?" She stared at him. His words destroyed the small island of evening peace in her sitting room.

"That's what Geni heard through the door; it was why she ran to tell me. He keeps saying she'll kill him at his own hands. That Malta will die, too," he added unwillingly.

"Malta? He's angry with Malta? But I thought they made up today. I heard…" Jani's voice faltered reluctantly.

Bendir picked up her words. "We all heard. Reyn was in her bedchamber, holding her on his lap and fondling her. Given his other behavior lately, a common scandal like simple lust was almost a relief."

"They've been through a lot. He thought she would die, and blamed himself. It's natural for him to cling to her now." It was a feeble excuse and Jani knew it. She wondered if Keffria had heard of it yet. Would it change her plans? Why did Reyn have to behave so strangely just now, when there were so many other crises to deal with?

"Well, I certainly wish he was 'clinging' to her now, instead of ranting and raving in his room," Bendir observed coldly.

Jani Khuprus stood abruptly. "This isn't good for any of us. I can't talk sense to him tonight, if he's drunk, but we'll take the brandy away and insist he sleep. Tomorrow, I'll demand he mend his behavior. You should find some work for him."

Bendir's eyes lit. "I'd like to send him back into the city. Rewo found a mound, further back in the swamp. He thinks it might be the upper story of another building. I'd like to put Reyn on it."

"I don't think that's wise. I don't think he should get anywhere near the city."

"It's the only thing he's good at," Bendir began, then clamped his lips at his mother's glare. He led the way and Jani followed him out into the night. They were still two catwalks away from Reyn's chamber when she began to hear his voice. It was slurred. Another level, and every word of his drunken rambling was plain. It was worse than she had feared. Her heart sank. He couldn't go as his father had gone, talking only to himself. Please, Sa, mother of all, do not be so unfair.

Reyn's voice rose in a sudden shout. Bendir broke into a run. Jani hurried after him. The door of Reyn's chamber was suddenly flung open. Golden lamplight flooded the night. Her son lurched into view, and then halted, clutching at the doorframe. It was obvious he couldn't stand by himself. "Malta!" he bellowed into the night. "NO! Malta, no!" He staggered out, his arms flailing wildly as he reached for a railing and missed.

Bendir's shoulder hit Reyn in the chest. He strong-armed his brother back into the room and onto the floor. Reyn seemed incapable of putting up any real resistance. He thrashed his arms, but went down flat on his back, groaning loudly as the air was driven out of him. Then Reyn shut his eyes and was still. He had passed out. Jani hastily shut the door behind her. "Let's get him up onto his bed," she said with weary relief.

Then Reyn rolled his head to one side. He opened his eyes and tears flowed down his cheeks. "No!" he wailed. "Let me up. I have to get to Malta. The dragon has her. She'll take her. I have to rescue Malta."

"Don't be ridiculous," Jani snapped at her son. "It's late at night, and you're in no condition to see or be seen by anyone. Bendir is going to help you to bed and that's as far as you are going."

His older brother stood over him, then bent and grasped him by the shirtfront. He dragged him half off the floor, two steps to the bed, and dumped him mostly on it. He straightened, and brushed his hands together. "Done," he panted. "Take the brandy, and put out the lantern. Reyn, stay here and sleep it off. No more shouting." His voice brooked no nonsense.

"Malta," Reyn drawled again in misery.

"You're drunk," Bendir retorted.

"Not that drunk." Reyn tried to sit up, but Bendir pushed him back. The younger man made fists, but then suddenly turned to his mother. "The dragon has Malta. She's there for me. She's going to take her."