I landed on my hands and knees in the pool below and got up soaked and spluttering. I’d been wet all night, and I felt like a fool. The panic was gone. The maze behind me wouldn’t be full for hours yet. I could hardly have drowned in six inches of water.

As I waded toward shore, it was easy to imagine how undignified my arrival in the pool must have looked from the riverbank. There was no sun in the sky, but the world was twilight gray. In an hour it would be dawn.

“Did you get it?” the magus asked from the bank.

“No.” I sloshed toward him sullen and embarrassed. “I couldn’t find it. I couldn’t find anything.” Nothing except huge chunks of obsidian. “There’s no naos, no altar, no treasure room.” I told him about the maze as I climbed up the sandbank out of the water. “It’s not very big.” He reached out a hand to help, grabbing me first above the wrist and then behind the elbow.

“There’re still two nights left,” he said optimistically. “Come get some breakfast.”

We woke Pol, who made us breakfast. He’d been hiding six eggs in his bags as well as more coffee. The magus dug out a dry set of clothes for me, and after breakfast I lay down and went to sleep. The sun was just rising.

CHAPTER NINE

I SLEPT THROUGH THE DAY with sunlight and blue sky filtering through my closed eyelids. After a cold, wet night in the temple maze, the sun was contentment itself, and I didn’t wake until it was setting. I had been dreaming again of the lady in the chamber; her hair was held away from her face by a string of dark red stones set in gold. She used a swan feather pen to put a second mark by my name, and she seemed concerned for my sake. I was about to ask where was the temple, where was the altar and the statue of the goddess, when the smell of coffee woke me.

I groaned as I woke. My eyes were still closed as I stretched my muscles, my arms over my head. There was someone standing above me, Sophos, I thought. He put a little cup of coffee in my outstretched hand.

“Gods bless you,” I said to him.

“You’re welcome,” said the magus dryly. “When you have returned to the land of the living, I have some questions to ask.”

I scowled and took my time over the coffee. It was thick and sweet, and I was sorry when I reached the grounds at the bottom of the cup.

The magus had many questions. First, though, he asked me to describe my night in the temple. I told him about the corridors mined out of the solid rock with their walls sagging in to make arched ceilings. I told him about the trap and how I’d almost been caught in it. I didn’t tell him about the antechamber that I recognized in my dreams. I didn’t really believe that myself, and only reluctantly did I tell him about the pool of bones.

“How many bones?” he wanted to know.

Ghoul, I thought. “The skulls were in pieces, I saw parts of four or five, maybe more. Does it matter?”

“My predecessor came here, I think,” the magus explained. “But as far as I know, he came alone. The other bones would be older. I wish I knew . . . ,” he murmured.

“Knew what?”

“Knew why whole expeditions have disappeared after this goal.”

“I wish I knew,” I said, “how the bones came to be piled in the back of the maze and none of them left in the trap at the front.”

The magus raised his head to look at me and then raised his eyebrows as well. “An astute observation,” he said. “Somebody moved them?”

I shrugged. I didn’t know. Maybe in five hundred years every thief that came here had been as smart as myself, but I found that difficult to believe. I looked around the campsite as a different thought occurred to me.

“I’d move camp if I were you,” I said.

“Why?”

“The river turns here. We’re right across from the falls. If the water came back faster than it did last night, it would jump that falls and land on top of you. You and Pol and Sophos would be washed across the sandbar and end up somewhere downriver, probably drowned.”

The magus nodded. “We’ll move. Eat some dinner.”

While I ate, I asked Pol if he had any rope or twine. I needed a piece longer than the ones I’d had in my pockets. After dinner I changed back into my clothes of the night before. Everything but one pocket lining had dried in the sun while I slept. Just after midnight the river sloshed in its bed and disappeared. It was as magical the second time as it was the first. I waited longer for more of the water to be gone from the maze before I took the line that Pol offered me and stepped into the pool.

I slipped through the stone door in the bluff and found one of my shoes. It was bobbing in the little bit of water still trapped behind the door. The other shoe had been dropped by the receding water in a corner of the antechamber. I put them on and grimaced with distaste. They were cold. I lifted the locking bar on the inner door and stepped into the maze. By the time I had opened the locks on the metal door my body heat had warmed the shoes on my feet and I had forgotten them.

Locks are not difficult things to open. They all work on the same system: Little tumblers keep the lock closed in this position and open in that position. The more tumblers you have, the more expensive the lock, but if a thief can open a lock with four tumblers, he can open one with six or eight or twelve almost as easily. He just uses a longer false key with adjustable strikes to move the tumblers.

If you want to keep something safe, I say hire a guard, at least until someone invents a better lock. Or hide your treasure where no one will find it. That’s what most people do. Being able to find valuables in boxes hidden behind bed frames, being able to move through a building with no one the wiser, those are more important skills for a thief than opening locks. Those and a good head for heights. People don’t usually hide their emerald earrings in the cellar.

I blocked open both of the metal doors with stones I’d brought from the riverbank and wandered through the maze to the pool of bones. I stood and looked at it for a while with the light of my lamp reflecting off the dark water. This was the one place in the maze that might hold Hamiathes’s Gift, and I didn’t want to look. I paced the length of the pool a few times before I started at one end and raked my fingers through the cold water, disturbing silt and bones. I found a ring, two rings, gold buttons, silver buttons, brass buttons, fibulas, brooches. The thieves who had come to this place had been a wealthy bunch, but none of them had found what they came for. The brooches were set with lapis and obsidian and a variety of other stones, but none of them was Hamiathes’s Gift. There was one ring that held a large green emerald engraved with a design I couldn’t make out in the dim light. It was too big for my finger. I slipped it over my thumb. The rest of the things I’d found I shoveled back into the pool, offerings to the gods.

I left that corridor and began the tedious work of measuring the maze, using the line Pol had given me. It took all night. I was just finishing when the panic came again. I coiled the rope with shaking hands and hurried toward the exit of the maze. By the time I reached the doors I was running and I almost collided with the first one. It was closed. My stone block had not stayed in position even though I had placed it carefully and wedged it firmly so that it would hold against the returning Aracthus. I fumbled for my tools and unlocked the door. When I started for the next one, which I could see was also closed, my foot kicked the stone door block, lying where it had been pushed by the swinging door. My other foot kicked the pry bar which I had dropped and forgotten the previous night. That was a more painful impact, but I didn’t stop. I limped on as quickly as I could to the far door and through it and out of the maze. My exit was perhaps a little more dignified than the night before, but not much. The magus was waiting for me.