There must have been some crack open to the air, for even in that dark confine there was a slight current, a cold thread of a draught. And with it came the sound I was listening for, the footsteps of someone approaching over the frosty rock . . .
When Galapas came into the cave a few minutes later I was sitting by the fire, my jerkin rolled up beside me, poring over the book.
Half an hour before dusk we put our books aside. But still I made no move to go. The fire was blazing now, filling the cave with warmth and flickering light. We sat for a while in silence.
“Galapas, there’s something I want to ask you.”
“Yes?”
“Do you remember the first day I came here?”
“Very clearly.”
“You knew I was coming. You were expecting me?”
“Did I say so?”
“You know you did. How did you know I would be here?”
“I saw you in the crystal cave.”
“Oh, that, yes. You moved the mirror so that the candlelight caught me, and you saw my shadow. But that’s not what I was asking you. I meant, how did you know I was going to come up the valley that day?”
“That was the question I answered, Merlin. I knew you were coming up the valley that day, because, before you came, I saw you in the cave.”
We looked at one another in silence. The flames glowed and muttered between us, flattened by the little draught that carried the smoke out of the cave. I don’t think I answered him at first, I just nodded. It was something I had known. After a while I said, merely: “Will you show me?”
He regarded me for a moment more, then got to his feet. “It is time. Light the candle.”
I obeyed him. The little light grew golden, reaching among the shadows cast by the flickering of the fire.
“Take the rug off the mirror.”
I pulled at it and it fell off into my arms in a huddle of wool. I dropped it on his bed beside the wall.
“Now go up on the ledge, and lie down.”
“On the ledge?”
“Yes. Lie on your belly, with your head towards the cleft, so that you can see in.”
“Don’t you want me to go right in?”
“And take your jerkin to lie on?”
I was halfway up to the ledge. I whipped round, to see him smiling.
“It’s no use, Galapas, you know everything.”
“Some day you will go where even with the Sight I cannot follow you. Now lie still, and watch.”
I lay down on the ledge. It was wide and flat and held me comfortably enough, prone, with my head pillowed on my bent arms, and turned towards the cleft.
Below me, Galapas said softly: “Think of nothing. I have the reins in my hand; it is not for you yet. Watch only.”
I heard him move back across the cave towards the mirror.