And now? It is time for Valentine to move on to the Labyrinth, Divvis had said. Yes. Yes. Somewhat young to be Pontifex, yes, but that was the hard luck of coming to the throne in Tyeveras's dotage. The old emperor deserved the sleep of the grave, and Valentine must go to the Labyrinth, and the starburst crown must descend—

To me? Lord Elidath? Is this to be Lord Elidath's Castle?

The thought filled him with awe and wonder: and also with fear. He had seen, these past six months, what it was to be Coronal.

"Elidath! You'll kill yourself! You're running like a madman!" That was Mirigant's voice, from far below, like something blown by the wind out of a distant city. Elidath was nearly at the top of the Ninety-Nine Steps now. There was a booming in his chest, and his vision was beginning to blur, but he forced himself onward, to the last of the steps, and into the narrow vestibule of dark green royal-stone that led to the administrative offices of the Pinitor Court. Blindly he careened around a corner, and felt a numbing impact and heard a heavy grunt; and then he fell and sprawled and lay breathing hard, more than half stunned.

He sat up and opened his eyes and saw someone—a youngish man, slender, dark of complexion, with fine black hair elaborately decked out in some fancy new style—getting shakily to his feet and coming toward him.

"Sir? Sir, are you all right?"

"Crashed into you, did I? Should have—looked where I was going—"

"I saw you, but there was no time. You came running so fast—here, let me help you up—"

"I'll be fine, boy. Just need to—catch my breath—"

Disdaining the young man's help, he pulled himself up, dusted off his doublet—there was a great rip up one knee, and bloody skin was showing through—and straightened his cloak. His heart was still thumping frighteningly, and he felt wholly absurd. Divvis and Mirigant were coming up the stairs, now. Turning to the young man, Elidath began to frame an apology, but the strange expression on the other's face halted him.

"Is something wrong?" Elidath asked.

"Do you happen to be Elidath of Morvole, sir?"

"I do, yes."

The boy laughed. "So I thought, when I took a close look. Why, you're the one I was looking for, then!

They said I might find you in the Pinitor Court. I bring a message for you."

Mirigant and Divvis had entered the vestibule now. They came alongside Elidath, and from their look he knew he must be a frightful sight, flushed, sweating, half crazed from his lunatic run. He tried to make light of it, gesturing at the young man and saying, "It seems I ran down this messenger in my haste, and he's bearing something for me. Who's it from, boy?"

"Lord Valentine, sir."

Elidath stared. "Is this a joke? The Coronal is on the grand processional, somewhere west of the Labyrinth."

"So he is. I was with him in the Labyrinth, and when he sent me to the Mount he asked me to find you as the first thing I did, and tell you—"