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g out to meet and celebrate the world。
When they went to drink from a little stream nearby； running clear over brown rocks from its spring in some princely garden on the hill behind them； he drank deep and doused his head right under the cold water。 Then he got up and declaimed the lines from the Deed of Morred；
Praised are the Fountains of Shelieth； the silver harp of the waters；
But blest in my name forever this stream that stanched my thirst！
Sparrowhawk laughed at him； and he also laughed。 He shook his head like a dog； and the bright spray flew out fine in the last gold sunlight。
They had to leave the grove and go down into the streets again； and when they had made their supper at a stall that sold greasy fishcakes； night was getting heavy in the air。 Darkness came fast in the narrow streets。 〃We'd better go； lad；〃 said Sparrowhawk； and Arren； said； 〃To the boat？〃 but knew it was not to the boat but to the house above the river and the empty； dusty； terrible room。
Hare was waiting for them in the doorway。
He lighted an oil lamp to show them up the black stairs。 Its tiny flame trembled continually as he held it； throwing vast； quick shadows up the walls。
He had got another sack of straw for his visitors to sit on； but Arren took his place on the bare floor by the door。 The door opened outward； and to guard it he should have sat himself down outside it： but that pitch…black hall was more than he could stand； and he wanted to keep an eye on Hare。 Sparrowhawk's attention and perhaps his powers were going to be turned on what Hare had to tell him or show him； it was up to Arren to keep alert for trickery。
Hare held himself straighter and trembled less； he had cleaned his mouth and teeth； he spoke sanely enough at first； though with excitement。 His eyes in the lamplight were so dark that they seemed； like the eyes of animals； to show no whites。 He disputed earnestly with Sparrowhawk； urging him to eat hazia。 〃I want to take you； take you with me。 We've got to go the same way。 Before long I'll be going； whether you're ready or not。 You must have the hazia to follow me。〃
〃I think I can follow you。〃
〃Not where I'm going。 This isn't。。。 spell…casting。〃 He seemed unable to say the words 〃wizard〃 or 〃wizardry。〃 〃I know you can get to the… the place； you know； the wall。 But it isn't there。 It's a different way。〃
〃If you go； I can follow。〃
Hare shook his head。 His handsome； ruined face was flushed； he glanced over at Arren often； including him； though he spoke only to Sparrowhawk。 〃Look： there are two kinds of men； aren't there？ Our kind and the rest。 The。。。 the dragons and the others。 People without power are only half…alive。 They don't count。 They don't know what they dream； they're afraid of the dark。 But the others； the lords of men； aren't afraid to go into the dark。 We have strength。〃
〃So long as we know the names of things。〃
〃But names don't matter there… that's the point； that's the point！ It isn't what you do； what you know； that you need。 Spells are no good。 You have to forget all that； to let it go。 That's where eating hazia helps； you forget the names； you let the forms of things go； you go straight to the reality。 I'm going to be going pretty soon now； if you want to find out where； you ought to do as I say。 I say as he does。 You must be a lord of men to be a lord of life。 You have to find the secret。 I could tell you its name but what's a name？ A name isn't real； the real； the real forever。 Dragons can't go there。 Dragons die。 They all die。 I took so much tonight you'll never catch me。 Not a patch on me。 Where I get lost you can lead me。 Remember what the secret is？ Remember？ No death。 No death …no！ No sweaty bed and rotting coffin； no more； never。 The blood dries up like the dry river and it's gone。 No fear。 No death。 The names are gone and the words and the fear； gone。 Show me where I get lost； show me； lord。。。 〃
So he went on； in a choked rapture of words that was like the chanting of a spell； and yet made no spell； no whole； no sense。 Arren listened； listened； striving to understand。 If only he could understand！ Sparrowhawk should do as he said and take the drug； this once； so that he could find out what Hare was talking about； the mystery that he would not or could not speak。 Why else were they here？ But then （Arren looked from Hare's ecstatic face to the other profile） perhaps the mage understood already。。。 Hard as rock； that profile。 Where was the snubbed nose； the bland look？ Hawk the sea…trader was gone； forgotten。 It was the mage； the Archmage； who sat there。
Hare's voice now was a crooning mumble； and he rocked his body as he sat cross…legged。 His face had grown haggard and his mouth slack。 Facing him； in the tiny； steady light of the oil lamp set on the floor between them； the other never spoke； but he had reached out and taken Hare's hand； holding him。 Arren had not seen him reach out。 There were gaps in the order of events； gaps of nonexistence… drowsiness； it must be。 Surely some hours had passed； it might be near midnight。 If he slept； would he too be able to follow Hare into his dream and e to the place； the secret way？ Perhaps he could。 It seemed quite possible now。 But he was to guard the door。 He and Sparrowhawk had scarcely spoken of it； but both were aware that in having them e back at night Hare might have planned some ambush； he had been a pirate； he knew robbers。 They had said nothing； but Arren knew that he was to stand guard； for while the mage made this strange journey of the spirit he would be defenseless。 But like a fool he had left his sword on board the boat； and how much good would his knife be if that door swung suddenly open behind him？ But that would not happen： he could listen and hear。 Hare was not speaking any more。 Both men were utterly silent； the whole house was silent。 Nobody could e up those swaying stairs without some noise。 He could speak； if he heard a noise： shout aloud； and the trance would break； and Sparrowhawk would turn and defend himself and Arren with all the vengeful lightning of a wizard's rage。。。 When Arren had sat down at the door； Sparrowhawk had looked at him； only a glance； approval： approval and trust。 He was the guard。 There was no danger if he kept on guard。 But it was hard； hard to keep watching those two faces； the little pearl of the lampflame between them on the floor； both silent now； both still； their eyes open but not seeing the light or the dusty room； not seeing the world； but some other world of dream or death。。。 to watch them and not to try to follow them。。。
There； in the vast； dry darkness； there one stood beckoning。 e； he said； the tall lord of shadows。 In his hand he held a tiny flame no larger than a pearl； held it out to Arren； offering life。 Slowly Arren took one step toward him； following。
Magelight
Dry； his mouth was dry。 There was the taste of dust in his mouth。 His lips were covered with dust。
Without lifting his head from the floor； he watched the shadow…play。 There were the big shadows that moved and stooped； swelled and shrank； and fainter ones that ran around the walls and ceiling swiftly； mocking them。 There was a shadow in the corner and a s