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was she to find him now that he had lost himself？
The tunnels of the Labyrinth； by Thar's account and her own experience； extended in all their windings； branchings； spirals； and dead ends； for more than twenty miles。 The blind alley that lay farthest from the Tombs was not much more than a mile away in a straight line； probably。 But down underground； nothing ran straight。 All the tunnels curved； split； rejoined； branched； interlaced； looped； traced elaborate routes that ended where they began； for there was no beginning； and no end。 One could go； and go； and go； and still get nowhere； for there was nowhere to get to。 There was no center； no heart of the maze。 And once the door was locked； there was no end to it。 No direction was right。
Though the ways and turnings to the various rooms and regions were firm in Arha's memory； even she had taken with her on her longer explorations a ball of fine yarn； and let it unravel behind her； and rewound it as she followed it returning。 For if one of the turns and passages that must be counted were missed； even she might be lost。 A light was no help； for there were no； landmarks。 All the corridors； all the doorways and openings； were alike。
He might have gone miles by now； and yet not be forty feet from the door where he had entered。
She went to the Hall of the Throne； and to the Twin Gods' temple； and to the cellar under the kitchens； and； choosing a moment when she was alone； looked through each of those spy holes down into the cold； thick dark。 When night came； freezing and blazing with stars； she went to certain places on the Hill and raised up certain stones； cleared away the earth； peered down again； and saw the starless darkness underground。
He was there。 He must be there。 Yet he had escaped her。 He would die of thirst before she found him。 She would have to send Manan into the maze to find him； once she was sure he was dead。 That was unbearable to think of。 As she knelt in the starlight on the bitter ground of the Hill； tears of rage rose in her eyes。
She went to the path that led back down the slope to the temple of the Godking。 The columns with their carved capitals shone white with hoarfrost in the starlight； like pillars of bone。 She knocked at the rear door； and Kossil let her in。
〃What brings my mistress？〃 said the stout woman； cold and watchful。
〃Priestess； there is a man within the Labyrinth。〃
Kossil was taken off guard； for once something had occurred that she did not expect。 She stood and stared。 Her eyes seemed to swell a little。 It flitted across Arha's mind that Kossil looked very like Penthe imitating Kossil； and a wild laugh rose up in her； was repressed； and died away。
〃A man？ In the Labyrinth？〃
〃A man； a stranger。〃 Then as Kossil continued to look at her with disbelief； she added； 〃I know a man by sight； though I have seen few。〃
Kossil disdained her irony。 〃How came a man there？〃
〃By witchcraft； I think。 His skin is dark； perhaps he is from the Inner Lands。 He came to rob the Tombs。 I found him first in the Undertomb； beneath the very Stones。 He ran to the entrance of the Labyrinth when he became aware of me； as if he knew where he went。 I locked the iron door behind him。 He made spells； but that did not open the door。 In the morning he went on into the maze。 I cannot find him now。〃
〃Has he a light？〃
〃Yes。〃
〃Water？〃
〃A little flask； not full。〃
〃His candle will be burned down already。〃 Kossil pondered。 〃Four or five days。 Maybe six。 Then you can send my wardens down to drag the body out。 The blood should be fed to the Throne and the …〃
〃No；〃 Arha said with sudden； shrill fierceness。 〃I wish to find him alive。〃
The priestess looked down at the girl from her heavy height。 〃Why？〃
〃To make… to make his dying longer。 He has mitted sacrilege against the Nameless Ones。 He has defiled the Undertomb with light。 He came to rob the Tombs of their treasures。 He must be punished with worse than lying down in a tunnel alone and dying。〃
〃Yes；〃 Kossil said； as if deliberating。 〃But how will you catch him； mistress？ That is chancy。 There is no chance about the other。 Is there not a room full of bones； somewhere in the Labyrinth； bones of men who entered it and did not leave it？。。。 Let the Dark Ones punish him in their own way； in their own ways； the black ways of the Labyrinth。 It is a cruel death； thirst。〃
〃I know；〃 the girl said。 She turned and went out into the night； pulling her hood up over her head against the hissing； icy wind。 Did she not know？
It had been childish of her； and stupid； to e to Kossil。 She would get no help there。 Kossil herself knew nothing； all she knew was cold waiting and death at the end of it。 She did not understand。 She did not see that the man must be found。 It must not be the same as with those others。 She could not bear that again。 Since there must be death let it be swift； in daylight。 Surely it would be more fitting that this thief； the first man in centuries brave enough to try to rob the Tombs； should die by sword's edge。 He did not even have an immortal soul to be reborn。 His ghost would go whining through the corridors。 He could not be let die of thirst there alone in the dark。
Arha slept very little that night。 The next day was filled with rites and duties。 She spent the night going； silent and without lantern； from one spy hole to another in all the dark buildings of the Place； and on the windswept hill。 She went to the Small House to bed at last； two or three hours before dawn； but still she could not rest。 On the third day； late in the afternoon； she walked out alone onto the desert； towards the river that now lay low in the winter drought； with ice among the reeds。 A memory had e to her that once； in the autumn； she had gone very far in the Labyrinth； past the Six…Cross； and all along one long curving corridor she had heard behind the stones the sound of running water。 Might not a man athirst； if he came that way； stay there？ There were spy holes even out here； she had to search for them； but Thar had shown her each one； last year； and she refound them without much trouble。 Her recall of place and shape was like that of a blind person： she seemed to feel her way to each hidden spot； rather than to look for it。 At the second； the farthest of all from the Tombs； when she pulled up her hood to cut out light； and put her eye to the hole cut in a flat pan of rock； she saw below her the dim glimmer of the wizardly light。
He was there； half out of sight。 The spy hole looked down at the very end of the blind alley。 She could see only his back； and bent neck； and right arm。 He sat near the corner of the walls； and was picking at the stones with his knife； a short dagger of steel with a jeweled grip。 The blade of it was broken short。 The broken point lay directly under the spy hole。 He had snapped it trying to pry apart the stones； to get at the water he could hear running； clear and murmurous in that dead stillness under earth； on the other side of the impenetrable wall。
His movements were listless。 He was very different； after these three nights and days； from the figure that had stood lithe and calm before the iron door and laughed at his own defeat。 He was still obstinate； but the power was gone out of him。 He had no spell to stir those stones aside； but must use his useless knife。 Even his sorcerer's light was wan and dim。 As Arha watched； the light flickered； the man's head jerked and he dropped the dagger。 Then doggedly he picked it up and tried to force the broken blade between the stones。
Lying among ice…bound reeds on the riverbank； unconscious of where she was or what she was doing； Arha put her mouth to the cold mouth of rock； and cupped her hands around to hold the sound in。 〃Wizard！〃 she said； and her voice slipping down the stone throat whispered coldly in the tunnel underground。
The man started and scrambled to his feet； so going out of the circle of her vision when she looked for him。 She put her mouth to the spy hole again and said； 〃Go back along the river wall to the second turn。 The first turn right； miss one； then right again。 At the Six Ways； right again。 Then left； and right； and left； and right。 Stay there in the Painted Room。〃
As she moved to look again； she must have let a shaft of daylight shoot through the spy hole into the tunnel for a moment； for when she looked he was back in the circle of her vision and staring upwards at the opening。 His face； which she now saw to be scarred in some way； was strained and eager。 The lips were parched and black； the eyes bright。 He raised his staff； bringing the light closer and closer to her eyes。 Frightened； she drew back； stopped the spy hole with its rock lid and litter of covering stones； rose； and went back swiftly to the Place。 She found her hands were shaky； and sometimes a giddiness swept over her as she walked。 She did not know what to do。
If he followed the directions she had given him； he would e back in the direction of the iron door； to the room of pictures。 There was nothing there； no reason for him to go there。 There was a spy hole in the ceiling of the Painted Room； a good one； in the treasury of the Twin Gods' temple； perhaps that was why she had thought o