Meisha's hand came up, snagging the boy's wrist like a snake after a mouse.

"Ho, there!"

"That's mine," she croaked, squeezing the mouse until the boy dropped the pin on the ground.

"Got 'im worms for wits, but Talal doesn't mean any harm," said the woman. She was much older and not nearly as dirty as the boy. Her hair was stark white in the dim torchlight, and so thin Meisha could see patches of skin through the wispy strands. Her eyebrows had worn away long ago, but she had a quick, affectionate smile for the boy even as she chided him.

"Are you in great pain?" she asked Meisha. The same pungent herb smell wafted from her hands as she probed Meisha's bandage.

"Only when I move," Meisha grunted. Truth was, she hurt all over, but part of that was from the cold. Despite the blankets piled on and beneath her, the cavern floor was colder than Meisha ever remembered it being. Not all Varan's enchantments were working, she thought, and her heart sank a little. "Who are you?" she asked, stopping the woman in her ministrations. "Where's Varan? What's happened to this place?"

"Easy," the woman said. "One at a time. I'm Haroun." She pointed to the boy. "This one's Talal. Your wound is healing. The knife managed to miss everything vital. Still, you were far gone when Talal brought you in. We're allowed only a small number of healing draughts, and we had to use two just to keep you from death."

"You have my thanks," Meisha said with feeling. She sat up gingerly, and with Haroun's help, got to her feet. "My attackers, do you know who they were?"

"Yes." Haroun's voice was strained. "The Shadow Thieves. They come through the glowing doors once every few tendays—the time varies. They don't want us to know when to expect them. She leaned closer, her milky eyes intent on Meisha's. "Tell me, child, did you come through the doorways? Do you know how to open them?"

Meisha shook her head, and the woman's eyes dimmed. "I came by . . . other means." Before Haroun could ask, she said, "I can't return the same way, but there is a main entrance. It's kept hidden, but I can show you."

Haroun was shaking her head before she'd finished. "No need. That way is closed."

"Closed?"

"Tunnel's sealed off," Talal spoke up. "Bastards caved it in, put something on it when we tried to dig out." He made scooping and filling motions with his hands. "We dig—stays full."

"An enchantment," Meisha said, remembering the wizard from the raiding party. "Probably activated from the other side of the cave-in. All it would require is a new casting each day, perhaps not even that often." She looked at the boy. "They trapped you in the Delve? How long have you been here?"

Talal and Haroun exchanged glances. "I'll show her," the boy offered, shrugging.

Haroun hesitated, appearing almost upset, but finally she nodded. "Go. She'll need to see the places where it's safe to walk. Show her gently, Talal. Do nothing foolish."

The boy flashed an indignant, "do I ever" look and offered his sleeve to Meisha in imitation of a grand lord escorting his lady. Meisha suppressed a groan, selected the cleanest possible scrap of cloth to grasp, and they were off, weaving among the cubed warrens to a cleared central path that led to an attached passage.

Talal yanked a torch from the wall sconce. He ignored the shouts of dismay from the corner of the cavern subsequently plunged into darkness. "This way."

They walked a short distance down a passage Meisha remembered. It led to a series of carved out alcoves fitted with thick wooden doors.

When Varan had first come to the Delve, he'd used the spaces as storage, but later they became small, private quarters for the apprentices. The wizard's domain was only a small part of the tunnel system. Varan's magic had placed the age of some of the lower tunnels as contemporaries of Deep Shanatar. The wizard speculated the Delve might even have been an outpost of that great dwarven realm.

Talal tugged on her arm. Absorbed in her thoughts, Meisha hadn't noticed when they'd stopped. Framed by a pearly, flow-stone waterfall, Talal pointed behind her to a stretch of wall. Meisha turned and blinked.

Numbers covered the stone from floor to ceiling, arranged in neatly ordered columns like a moneylender's account. All were dates, marked with the change of month and the change of year. They ended Marpenoth 3 of 1374 DR.

"Iadra marks a new one every day," said Talal.