keep himself from rushing ahead. The song was like no music he had ever heard; it was closer to birdsong, he decided, in that it seemed the spontaneous expression of a nature shaped to give voice to just that sound and no other; there was joy in it, a wild and carefree delight in being that lifted his heart on echoing swells, but there was also urgency, as if the watch were calling out for something needful, whose lack left it incomplete.
He recalled the words of Tiamat: It is just what you have called it: a hunter. It hunts. Was it hunting him? And, if so, for what purpose? It will answer to you now, the dragon had said, protect you … but do not imagine yourself its master. It is a weapon, a very great weapon – too great to be left in the hands of men. But was there ever a weapon that sang so sweetly?
He would not have stopped or turned back now even if it had been possible, impelled as much by his own curiosity as by any geis laid upon him by Tiamat or the hunter. Anticipation grew in him with every step. He felt that he was advancing to meet his destiny. I am coming, he thought, wondering if the hunter could hear him or sense his approach somehow. Perhaps his thoughts, too, made a kind of music.
At last, after a steady but not precipitous upwards climb, they reached a solid wall of packed stones. Longinus put his ear to the wall and listened. Then, satisfied, he set the glowing vial upon the ground to one side and began to prise out certain of the stones. Though they had appeared to be tightly wedged together, the stones slid out with ease, and soon there was room enough for the two men to crawl through, which they wasted no time in doing, Longinus still leading the way, the vial once again held before him.
The passage on the far side of the barrier looked no different than it had before, yet Quare sensed they had entered the precincts of the guild hall. The oppressive atmosphere lifted; it was as if they’d left a dense and gloom-ridden forest behind and, though still among the trees, had reached the outskirts of civilization. Perhaps, he thought, it was a subtle change in the hunter’s song that communicated this knowledge to him; he could not say for certain, but he did feel that the song, though wordless, had meaning … just as birdsong had its own meaning, hidden as it might be to human ears.
Longinus set a faster pace now, though he continued to move with the stealth and silence of his feline namesake. Quare, try as he might, could not match him in either respect, and he winced more than once as an errant footfall broadcast his presence. But no voices were raised in challenge, and he saw no glimmer of torchlight from ahead, just the lambent glow from the vial, preceding them like a will-o’-the-wisp.
The rough stone of the passage gave way to cut stone, and then to the long corridor of cells he’d last visited little more than a day ago – it seemed another lifetime! The corridor, too, was lightless, nor was there any hint of illumination behind any of the cell doors. He wondered if Longinus meant to make use of the same stair-master by which the two of them had escaped to the rooftop, but it appeared not, as the man passed cell after cell and made straight for the doorway at the end of the corridor.
‘Hsst! Who goes there?’ came a quavering voice from the last cell on the left.
Quare froze, as did Longinus; the green light winked out in an instant.
‘Who’s there?’ the shaky voice repeated from out of the dark. It was a voice Quare recognized but had not thought ever to hear again.
Receiving no reply, the voice grew louder, edged with panic. ‘For God’s sake, say something! Stop this damned torture and show yourself!’
Quare kept silent, following Longinus’s lead. But questions were swirling through his brain, clamouring to be asked.
‘Answer me, damn you!’ the voice cried angrily. ‘If you mean to kill me, come and try, you damned cowardly curs!’
At this, Longinus spoke at last. ‘Hsst! Quiet, man. I have no interest in killing you. I have no interest in you at all.’
Quare did not recognize this voice: a deep, intimidating growl. The voice of Grimalkin.
It did not intimidate the