They saw more likenesses of the bearded man, though not every carving or etching was the same. When formed in rock, many of the images had weathered, showing that they had been there for some time. Those formed in wood—plaques on the sides of ruined buildings, carved into the trunks of trees—the elements had aged, drying the timber until some images were split in many places. In some of the older impressions, he seemed unbearded, leaner, as though they followed his years.

“I know that face,” Ramus said.

Lulah shook her head. “If it's a god of theirs, I doubt that.”

“Is it a god?” Ramus asked. “We saw what they worshipped. And I hope it still sleeps. But this . . . ? Him . . . ?”

Most of the buildings they saw were open, with doors missing, roofs caved in and windows absent or almost decayed to nothing. But as they came within sight of the far edge of the village— there were woods beyond, over a bridge crossing a small stream—they saw a building that seemed relatively intact. The door was off its hinges but leaned against its frame, allowing only a small gap for animal and plant ingress. The thatched roof was heavily bowed but whole, and the windows had been covered with rough boards nailed across from the outside.

Ramus could not resist the mystery of such a place.

“We should go,” Lulah said. “We need to find a place to rest for the night. You're exhausted, Ramus, I can see it in your eyes. And your illness . . .”

Ramus nodded, but then looked at the small building again. “One more look,” he said.

That face, he thought. By all the gods, I know that face, and 3 the next time I see it carved or formed somewhere, I'll stare until I give it a name.

They approached the leaning door and Lulah lifted it to one side. It fell with a crash and Ramus held his breath, glancing around the village. They had come all the way through without seeing anything larger than a small bird, yet still he felt as though they were intruding somewhere sacred.

“After you,” Lulah said. She pointed at the doorway and Ramus entered.

It was not as dark as he had expected. A window in the far wall had been stripped of boards, and the blank opening let in a stream of light. The inside was composed of one large space, and it was a landscape of humped shapes, all of them covered with a thick layer of moss. Plants grew here and there, but they were the wide-leafed, short-stemmed plants of dark places.