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〃But the stories themselves are often lies； Simon。 The bad ones are。〃 The doctor cleaned his spectacles on the wide sleeve of his robe。 〃Good stories will tell you that facing the lie is the worst terror of all。 And there is no talisman or magic sword that is half so potent a weapon as truth。〃
Simon turned to watch the ripples slowly dissipating。 It was wonderful to stand and talk with Morgenes again； even if it was only a dream。 〃Do you mean that if I said to a great dragon like the one that King John killed： 'You're an ugly dragon。' that would be better than cutting its head off with a sword？〃
Morgenes' voice was fainter。 〃If you had been pretending it wasn't a dragon； then yes； that would be the best thing to do。 But there is more； Simon。 You have to go deeper still。〃
〃Deeper？〃 Simon turned back； angry now。 〃I've been down in the earth； Doctor。 I lived and I came up again。 What do you mean？〃
Morgenes was 。。。 changing。 His skin had turned papery and his pale hair was full of leaves。 Even as Simon watched； the old man's fingers began to lengthen； changing into slender twigs； branching； branching。 〃Yes； you have learned；〃 the doctor said。 As he spoke； his features began to disappear into the whorls on the white bark of the tree。 〃But you must go deeper still。 There is much to understand。 Watch for the angel…she will show you things； both in the ground and far above it。〃
〃Morgenes！〃 Simon's anger was all gone。 His friend was changing so swiftly that there was almost nothing manlike left of him； only a faint suggestion in the shape of the trunk； an unnatural trembling in the tree's limbs。 〃Don't leave me！〃
〃But I have left you already；〃 the doctor's voice murmured。 〃What you have of me is only what is in your headI am part of you。 The rest of me has bee part of the earth again。〃 The tree swayed slightly。 〃Remember； though…the sun and stars shine on the leaves； but the roots are deep in the earth； hidden 。。。 hidden。。。。〃
Simon clutched at the tree's pale trunk； his fingers scrabbling uselessly against the stiff bark。 The doctor's voice was silent。
Simon sat up； nightmare…sweat stinging his eyes； and was horrified to discover himself in darkness。
It was all a dream！ I'm still lost in the tunnels； I'm lost。。。。
A moment later he saw starlight through the storeroom's high window。
Mooncalf。 Fell asleep and it got dark outside。
He sat up； rubbing his sore limbs。 What was he to do now？ He was hungry and thirsty； and there seemed little chance that he would find anything to eat here in Green Angel Tower。 Still； he was more than a little reluctant to leave this relatively safe place。
Have I climbed out of the dark ground only to starve to death in a closet？ he chided himself。 What kind of knight would do that？
He got to his feet and stretched； noting the dull ache in his ankle。 Perhaps just a foray out to get some water and see the lay of the land。 Certainly it would be best to do such things while it was still dark。
Simon stood uncertainly in the shadows outside Green Angel Tower。 The Inner Bailey's haphazard roofs made a familiar jumble against the night sky； but Simon did not feel at all fortable。 It was not just that he was an outlaw in his childhood home； although that was disconcerting enough： there was also something strange in the air that he could not name； but which he nevertheless could sense quite clearly。 The maddening slipperiness of the world belowground had somehow seeped up into the everyday stones of the castle itself。 When he tilted his head to one side； he could almost see the buildings ripple and change at the edge of his sight。 Faint blurs of light； like phantom flames； seemed to flicker along the edges of walls； then quickly vanish。
The Hayholt； too？ Had all the world broken loose from its moorings？ What was happening？
With some difficulty； he nerved himself to go exploring。
Although it seemed the great castle was deserted； Simon soon discovered it was not。 The Inner Bailey was dark and quiet； but voices whispered down corridors and behind closed doors； and there were lights in many of the higher windows。 He also heard snatches of music； odd tunes and odder voices that made him want to arch like a cat and hiss。 As he stood in the deep concealing shadows of the Hedge Garden； he decided that the Hayholt had somehow bee spoiled； a fruit left to sit for too long now grown soft and rotten beneath the outer shell。 He could not quite say what was wrong； but the whole of the Inner Bailey； the place that had been the center of Simon's childhood world； seemed to have sickened。
He went stealthily to the kitchen； the lesser pantry； the chapel…even； in a moment of high daring； to the antechamber of the throne room； which opened onto the gardens。 All the outer doors were barred。 He could find no entrance anywhere。 Simon could not remember any time before when that had been so。 Was the king frightened of spies； of a siege？ Or were the barriers not to keep out intruders； but to make sure that those who were inside remained there？ He breathed quietly and thought。 There were windows that could not be closed； he knew； and other secret ways…but did he want to risk such difficult entrances？ There might be fewer people about at night； but judging by the barred doors； those who were up； especially if they were sentries； would be even more alert to unexpected noises。
Simon returned to the kitchen and pulled himself up into the branches of a small； barren apple tree； then climbed from there onto the ledge of the high window。 The thick glass was gone； but the window slot had been wedged fall of stones； there would be no way to remove them without making a terrible clatter。 He cursed silently and descended。
He was sore and still terribly hungry； despite the luxury of a whole onion。 He decided that he had wasted his time on the doors of the Inner Bailey。 On the far side of the moat； though； the Middle Bailey might prove less well…protected。
There were several distressingly naked patches of ground between the two baileys。 Despite not having seen a single guard or； in fact； a single other person； Simon had to force himself to cross these open stretches； each time he dashed for the safety of shadows as soon as he was clear。 The bridge across the moat was the most unnerving part。 He began to cross it and then changed his mind twice。 It was at least thirty ells long； and if someone appeared while he was in the middle； he would be as obvious as a fly walking on a white wall。
At last he blew out a shaky breath； drew in a deep gasp of air； and sprinted across。 His steps sounded as loud to him as thunder。 He forced himself to slow down and cross at a silent walk； despite the thumping of his heart。 When he reached the far side he ducked into a shed where he sat until he felt steady again。
You're doing well； he told himself。 No one's around。 Nothing to fear。
He knew that was a lie。
Plenty to fear； he amended。 But no one's caught you yet。 Not in a while； anyway。
As he got to his feet； he could not help wondering why the bridge over the moat had been down in the first place if all the doors were barred and windows blocked against some feared attack。
And why wasn't Green Angel Tower locked up？ He could think of no answer。
Before he had taken a hundred paces across the muddy thoroughfare in the center of Middle Bailey； he saw something that made him shrink back into the darkness again； his terrors suddenly returned…this time with reason。
An army was camped in the bailey。
It had taken him some long moments to realize it； since so few fires burned； and since the tents were made of dark cloth that was almost invisible in the night； but the entire bailey seemed to be full of armed men。 He could see perhaps a half dozen on the nearer outskirts； sentries by the look of them； cloaked and helmeted and carrying long pikes。 In the dim light he could not see much of their faces。 Even as he stood hidden in a crack between two of the bailey's buildings； wondering what to do next； another pair of cloaked and hooded figures passed him。 They also carried long spears； but he could see immediately that they were different。 Something in the way they carried themselves； something in their graceful； deceptively swift strides； told him beyond doubt that these were Norns。
Simon sank farther back into the concealing darkness； trembling。 Would they know he was here？ Could they 。。。smell him？
Even as he wondered； the black…robed creatures paused only a short way from his hiding place； alert as hunting dogs。 Simon held his breath and willed himself to total stillness。 After a long wait； the Norns abruptly turned in unison； as though some wordless munication had passed between them； and continued on their way。 Simon waited a few shaky moments； then cautiously poked his head around the wall。 He could not see them against the darkness； but he could see the human soldiers move out of their way； quick as men avoiding a snake。 For an instant the Norns were silhouetted against one of the watchfires； twin hooded shapes that seemed