“Not if Lytol gets asked to dinner and he will, if dinner is as close as you said it was.” Jaxom couldn’t suppress his bitterness at this whole ill-advised exploration. “Haven’t you any idea where we are?”

“No,” Felessan had to admit, sounding suddenly out of his depth. “I always followed the footprints, just like I did now. There were footprints. You saw them.”

Jaxom didn’t care to agree for that would mean he was in part to blame for their predicament.

“Those other corridors we passed on the way to the hole, where do they go?” he finally asked.

“I don’t know. There’s an awful lot of the Weyr that’s empty. I’ve—I’ve never gone any farther than the slit.”

“What about the others? How far in have they gone?”

“Gandidan’s always talking about how far he’s gone but—but—I don’t remember what he said.”

“For the Egg’s sake, don’t blubber.”

“I’m not blubbering. I’m just hungry!”

“Hungry? That’s it. Can you smell dinner? Seemed to me we could smell it an awful long ways down the corridor.”

They sniffed at the air in all directions. It was musty but not with stew. Sometimes, Jaxom remembered, you could smell fresher air and find your own way back. He put out a hand to touch the wall; the smooth, cold stone was somehow comforting. In between, you couldn’t feel anything, though this corridor was just as dark. His chest hurt and throbbed, in a steady accompaniment to his blood.

With a sigh, he backed up against the smooth wall and, sliding down it, settled to the ground with a bump.

“Jaxom?”

“I’m all right. I’m just tired.”

“Me, too,” and with a sigh of relief, Felessan sat down, his shoulder touching Jaxom’s. The contact reassured them both.

“I wonder what it was like,” Jaxom mused at length.

“Wonder what what was like?” asked Felessan in some surprise.

“When the Weyrs and the Holds were full. When these corridors were lighted and used.”

“They’ve never been used.”

“Nonsense. No one wastes time carving out corridors that’ll lead nowhere. And Lytol said there are over five hundred weyrs in Benden and only half-used…”

“We have four hundred and twelve fighting dragons at Benden now.”

“Sure, but ten Turns ago there weren’t two hundred, so why so many weyrs if they weren’t all used once? And why are there miles and miles of halls and unused rooms in Ruatha Hold if they weren’t used once…”

“So?”

“I mean, where did all the people go? And how did they carve out whole mountains in the first place?”

Clearly the matter had never troubled Felessan.

“And did you ever notice? Some of the walls are smooth as…”