So Maddy told her tale in full-everything she had meant to tell and quite a lot she hadn’t. She spoke of her childhood, of her father, of Mae, of Mrs. Scattergood and the invasion of rats and insects in the cellar-at this point Lucky laughed aloud-of her dreams and ambitions, of her fears. He was a good listener, and when Maddy finally stopped talking, feeling tired and dry-mouthed, it was with the not unpleasant feeling that she had never revealed quite as much to anyone-not even to One-Eye-as she had to this boy.

“So,” he said when Maddy was done. “You opened the Hill. You found your way here”-for some reason she had not told Lucky about Sugar-“and now you’ve found your Whisperer. So what happens next?”

Maddy shrugged. “One-Eye said to bring it out.”

“That simple?” He grinned. “And did he give you any idea of how you were going to work it? Magic rope, perhaps, or a cantrip to make you fireproof?”

Silently Maddy shook her head.

“It’s a glam, isn’t it?” said Lucky. “It’s some bauble from the Elder Age, all bound up in heathen runes. How d’you know it’s safe, Maddy? How d’you know it won’t just zap you into smithereens the minute you lay your hands on it?”

“One-Eye would have told me.”

“Assuming he knows.”

“Well, he knew it was here.”

“Hmm.” Lucky sounded unconvinced. “It just seems rather odd, that’s all. Him sending you down here alone like that.”

“I told you,” said Maddy. “It was safer this way.”

There was a rather lengthy pause. “Don’t bite my head off,” said Lucky slowly, “but it seems to me your Journeyman friend knows a lot about this that he hasn’t told you. First he says there’s gold under the Hill, then he says it’s a treasure of the Old World, but he won’t say what it is, then he sends you in here alone without even a syllable of warning-I mean, didn’t you ever hear the tale of Al-Adhinn and the enchanted lamp?”

Maddy began to feel annoyed. “One-Eye’s my friend. I trust him,” she said.

“Your choice.” Lucky shrugged.

“No one made me come here, you know.”

“Maddy, he’s been feeding you tales of World Below since you were seven years old. I’d say he’s got you well trained by now.”

Maddy’s fists clenched, just a little. “What are you saying? That he lied to me?”

“What I’m saying,” Lucky told her, “is that a man may plant a tree for a number of reasons. Perhaps he likes trees. Perhaps he wants shelter. Or perhaps he knows that someday he may need the firewood.”

Now Maddy’s face was pale with anger. She took a step forward, the runemark on her palm flaring suddenly from russet brown to angry red. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Look, all I said was-”

In an instant Maddy’s hand was aflame; a bramble of runelight sprang from her palm. It was Thuris, the Thorn, angriest of runes, and Maddy could feel it wanting to bite, to sting, to lash out at the cause of her rage-

Alarmed, she flung it at the wall. Thuris discharged harmlessly into the rock, leaving a sharp scent of burned rubber in the air.

“Nice aim,” said Lucky. “Feel better now?”

But Maddy had already turned her back. Who in the Nine Worlds did he think he was? He was only an accidental player in this game, a bystander, just clever enough to enter World Below but not enough to get out again, just a glassblower’s prentice with no magic and no glam.

And yet, she thought, what if he’s right?

She shot him a look over her shoulder and saw him watching her curiously. Serve him right, she thought, if she left him here. Let him rot underground or be caught by goblins. It would be no more than he deserved. She stood up abruptly and turned to the cave entrance.

“Where are you going?” Lucky said.

“I’m going to get the Whisperer.”

“What, now?”

“Why not?”

Now there was alarm in Lucky’s voice. “You’re crazy,” he said, catching hold of her arm. “It’s late, you’re exhausted, you haven’t got a clue-”

“I’ll manage,” she snapped. “I’m a lot smarter than you give me credit for.”

Lucky gave a rueful sigh. “Maddy, I’m sorry,” he said. “Me and my mouth. My brother always said I should have it sewn up, do everyone a favor.”

Maddy glared and would not turn around.

“Maddy. Please. Don’t go. I apologize.” Now he even sounded sorry, and Maddy found herself relenting. He couldn’t be expected to take all this on trust. His world was very different from hers, and it was only natural for him to be suspicious. He had no magic, knew nothing of the Whisperer, and more importantly, she reminded herself, he didn’t know One-Eye.

The question remained, Maddy thought-did she?

5

The doubts he had awakened were not easily put aside. After a rather silent supper of leftover fish, Maddy found herself tired but unable to rest. While Lucky slept, apparently oblivious, she tried in vain to find a comfortable position on the rock floor but again and again found her mind going back to the same words.

A man may plant a tree for a number of reasons.

What had been One-Eye’s reason? Why had he taught her so much and yet kept so much from her? Most of all, how could he know anything about a treasure that had been lost since the Winter War?

Behind her, Lucky was still asleep. Maddy couldn’t see how he could sleep in such relentless heat, with the sounds of World Below echoing and rumbling like thunder around them, but there he was, twitching a little, as if at some dream, curled comfortably into a hollow in the rock with his jacket rolled up beneath his head.

Perhaps he was used to the heat, she thought. A glassblower’s prentice has to spend long hours working the ovens, fanning and stoking the fires for the melted glass. Besides, he was unusually resourceful-for a prentice-and he had had time to get used to the unpleasant conditions.

Still, now that she came to think of it, Maddy realized that although Lucky knew a great deal about her, she still knew almost nothing about him. What was he doing under the Hill? From what he had told her, he had been gone for two weeks or more-a serious breach of his contract of apprenticeship, for which he would be punished when he returned. Why would a glassblower’s prentice come here? More importantly, how had a glassblower’s prentice managed to break into World Below in the first place?

A few feet away, Lucky slept, a picture of innocence. Maddy could not believe she hadn’t at least questioned him, hadn’t even thought of doing so until now. There had been so much else to do-and besides, Lucky had no magic, no glam. Bjarkán confirmed it-he left no trail.

But now even that made Maddy uneasy. She tried to recall exactly what she had seen as Lucky came back over the rocks with his fishing net. Surely there should have been something, she thought-his colors, at least. Lucky was young and strong and smart; he should have left a good, bright signature behind him. But even with Bjarkán, there had been no colors. Not a gleam, not a glimmer.

Could he have hidden them somehow?

The thought was too alarming. It suggested-

Sitting up sharply, she raised her hand and cast Bjarkán for the second time, and this time she concentrated as hard as she could, looking into the runeshape for anything-anything-out of the ordinary.

The glassblower’s prentice slept on, one hand clenched at his side, the other flung out against the rock. Now she could see his signature, a bright and exuberant violet, glowing fitfully as he slept.

Maddy gave a sigh of relief. Just nerves, that’s all it was; nerves and her own fears, making her jump at shadows. She lowered her gaze…

And then she saw it in his left hand, where, sleeping, he must have relaxed his guard. A trio of runes, like thin trails of colored fire scrawled across his palm: ýr, the Protector, crossed with Bjarkán and Ós, a complex charm to shield him as he slept.