“They will be here in minutes. And they will get it.”

“There have been three hundred conclaves in this place. My grandfather built it when the humans were covered with hair.”

“May those days live in memory.”

“They were sour. The new ones now are much sweeter.”

Horribly close, there came the roar of gunfire. It was so close that the flash was faintly visible.

“We have to get out. We cannot waste another minute.”

“What is a minute or a hundred years? You have fallen from your nobility, Miriam. Everybody says it. I remember you in linen, how tall you were, your limbs like gold.”

“That memory is three thousand years old, Julia! This is now, and the humans are not armed with bronze daggers. Don’t you understand that they’re tearing the Keepers apart with their guns?”

“They will become lost. The labyrinth is more cunning than their minds can understand.”

“That was true a hundred years ago. But now they have sonar and digital maps and handheld locators. And they’re trained to kill us. They have killed all of Asia, and they have their Book of Names.”

“Asia is far away.”

“It’s an airplane flight! I was in Bangkok a few days ago.”

“You have the restless soul of a human, always traipsing about.”

Miriam heard human voices. They would be here in moments. “Do you not think it strange that you alone are here at the appointed time? Where are the others? Can you explain it?”

“Don’t cross-question me. All will unfold in its course.”

“Then why hasn’t it? What’s wrong?”

“What has changed to prevent the conclave? Nothing.”

“Everything has changed.”

“A few humans cannot change the course of the world.”

Miriam saw the humans creeping among the shadows ahead, four of them.

“It’s lit,” the tall, powerful one said. He walked into the gray glow from the ancient batteries. Humans had found some of the Keepers’ batteries in the Valley of the Euphrates some years ago. They were still trying to understand how the ancients could have had electricity.

“Lookit—a power line!”

Discreetly, Miriam drew Julia into a pool of shadow. The humans were now at the far end of the chamber, perhaps a hundred yards away.

“How do you work the lights?” she whispered to Julia.

“They’re always on during conclave. That’s the rule.”

“Julia, there is no conclave. We’re all being killed. Turn out the lights.”

Julia broke away from her, strode out into the center of the chamber. For a moment, the humans froze. They drew closer together.

“Julia!”

“Miriam, they’re only —”

There came clicking noises, ominous, echoing. Only seconds remained. “Julia, run!”

Julia turned to her. Her smile said that she found her friend of old times pitiful.

The tall human raised his weapon, followed by the others. Miriam watched his face, the careful sculpture of it, the hard fury of the eyes.