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speak to him in the happy days when we were together in the classroom. “Presumably, it extends up through the ceiling to the region of the Celestial Sea. And every bit of it is covered in these runes, that you see here, “It is frustrating”—I could not help frowning—”but most of these sigla, individually, I know, I understand. The rune's power lies not in the individual sigil, however, but in the combination of sigla. It is that combination that is beyond my ability to comprehend. I copied down the patterns, took them back with me to the library, and spent many hours studying them with the help of the ancient texts.
    “But,” I continued, speaking so softly that only Edmund could hear my words, “it was like trying to unravel a huge ball made up of myriad tiny threads. A single thread ran smoothly through my fingers. I followed it and it led me to a knot. Patiently I worked, separating one thread from another and then another and then another until my mind ached from the strain. I untangled one knot, only to find, beneath it,another. And by the time I unraveled that one, I had lost hold of the first single thread. And there are millions of knots,” I said, looking upward, sighing. “Millions.”
    The king turned away from the pillar abruptly, his face drawn and darkly lined in the torchlight. He had not spoken a word during the time we'd stood beneath the colossus. It occurred to me, then, that he had not spoken since we left the city gates. He walked off, back to the path. The people lifted their children to their shoulders and started on their way. Most of the soldiers followed after the people, taking the light with them. One only remained near myself and the prince.
    Edmund stood before the pillar, pulling on his gloves. I waited for him, sensing that he wanted to talk to me in private.
    “These same runes, or others like them, must guard Death's Gate,” he said in a low voice, when he was certain no one could overhear. The soldier had backed off, out of courtesy. “Even if we did find it, we could not hope to enter.”
    My heart beat faster. At last, he was beginning to accept the idea!
    “Recall the prophecy, Edmund,” was all I said.
    I didn't want to appear too eager or press the issue too closely. It is best, with Edmund, to let him turn matters over in his mind, make his own decisions. I learned that when he was a boy in school. Suggest, introduce, recommend. Never insist, never force him. Try to do so, and he becomes hard and cold as this cavern wall that is now, as I write, poking me painfully in the back.
    “Prophecy!” he repeated irritably. “Words spoken centuries ago! If they ever do come true, which I must admit I doubt, why should they come to fulfillment in our lifetime?”
    “Because, My Prince,” I told him, “I do not think that, after our lifetime, there will be any others.”
    The answer shocked him, as I intended. He stared at me, appalled, said nothing more. Glancing a last time at the colossus, he turned away and hastened to catch up with his father. I knew my words troubled him. I saw his expression, brooding and thoughtful, his shoulders bent.
    Edmund, Edmund! How I love you and how it breaks myheart to thrust this terrible burden on you. I look up from my work and watch you walking among the people, making certain they are as comfortable as they can possibly be. I know that you are exhausted, but you will not lie down to sleep until every one of your people is sleeping.
    You have not eaten all cycle. I saw you give your ration of food to the old woman who nursed you when you were a babe. You tried to keep the deed hidden, secret. But I saw. I know. And your people are beginning to know, as well, Edmund. By the end of this journey, they will come to understand and appreciate a true king.
    But, I digress. I must conclude this quickly. My fingers are cramped with the cold and, despite my best efforts, a thin layer of ice is starting to form across the top of the ink