The others had awakened, and they dragged themselves over to the sound of Auma’s voice. Though their presence was of small comfort, the young mouse could not shake off the dread aura surrounding him. A shrew whimpered in the darkness, then the jangle of keys outside warned them that some creature was about to enter.

A torch flared and they covered their eyes against the brightness of the light. Shadows danced about the stone walls as the torch-bearer entered. It was a rat in a long purple robe. His eyes glinted dully in the flames from the torch, and when he spoke his voice was flat in tone, but menacing and imperious.

“I am Nadaz, Voice of the Host,” he said. “Do not move or dare to talk with me, or you will regret it. Nadaz commands the breath that comes from your mouth. I am the power of life and death over all of you. There is no light in here, nor is there food and water. You will be left in this place until I decide that you are fit to use your eyes again, to eat and to drink. Malkariss has spoken!”

The light was extinguished with the slam of the door and the turn of the key.

“Who is Malkariss?” Cynthia asked. Her voice sounded hollow and scared.

Tess grasped her paw in the darkness. “I’m certain we’ll find that out soon enough.”

*   *   *

Slagar followed Nadaz. They passed through tunnels and rooms, with Vitch trailing nervously behind.

Some of the chambers and corridors they walked along had obviously been built a long time ago by master craftsbeasts; other were crude, hacked and gouged from the earth, with boulders, hard-packed soil and severed tree roots showing in the light of the torches which burnt in wall brackets throughout the strange place.

A long winding passage gave way to a broad rock ledge, and Vitch gazed around in awe. Crystal and mica deposits in the rocks reflected the torchlights of a huge wheel-shaped chandelier, and on the brink of the ledge stood a colossal statue hewn from white limestone. It was the standing figure of a monstrous white polecat, with teeth of crystal and glittering eyes of black jet. Beyond it the ledge dropped away to the depths of the earth. Around the walls winding down to the deeps was a narrow carved stairway which started from the left side of the ledge, losing itself in the misty green light below.

Nadaz beckoned Slagar and Vitch to stand on a groove in the rock some distance away from the statue. The purple-robed rat moved slowly with bended head until he stood close to the figure.

“Who comes near Malkariss?” a sibilant voice echoed from between the crystal teeth.