"The mines have always been haunted. Everyone knows that." Dark eyes shone at Naydeer from beneath the broad-brimmed wizard hat. "The ghosts of the mountains dwell in the deep and feel disturbed by the humans, by their hammering and trespassing. They fight back. Many poor miners have met a terrible end that way!"

Pramus straightened up, running a hand over his gray beard. "And now that a demon has appeared in Behrlem, magical protection is called for more than ever." He paced across the parlor, a few long strides that sent embroidered runes of silver swirling among the folds of his silky robes. "We have been negligent. There are quite a number of new miners now who have never gone through the ritual. This might mean danger. We need to act."

He turned around to face Naydeer.

She held his gaze for a long while, in perfect silence, her face blank, inscrutable.

Then she inclined her head.

* * *

The cabin was quiet. All the children had gone to sleep, and the cabin master too. Or so Yunda hoped.

Stealthily, she crept out from under the gallery toward her workbench, crouching down beneath it. She planted her foot exactly where the mage had put it, back then, at her initiation. Her hands shook slightly, but her eyes held a fierce determination.

From her pocket she pulled two twigs, tied together at an angle, like the crossed fingers on a human hand. Keeping her tongue firmly in her cheek, Yunda ran the magical artifact around her ankle, right there where the demon chain had been fixed. It was difficult to do the whole move in one single go, and Yunda almost let her tongue slip out from between her teeth in her concentration. But she caught herself just in time.

Then the loop was closed. The chain opened.

Yunda paused, breath bated. She watched the ground. No demon reared its head.

A silent shout of triumph echoed through Yunda's heart. Now it would all be won! She crawled to the back door beneath the gallery, the one where she had seen the cabin master come and go. Here, the bolt was on the inside. Yunda, on her knees, softly lifted it up. The door slid open, just one tiny bit, and Yunda squeezed through like a cat.

The night was wild and stormy. Dark clouds scurried across the sky with violent agitation.

Yunda ran as fast as she could. She fell, got up again, and scrambled on through the darkness, down the endless hillside.

Her lungs were burning. Her leg hurt from the fall.

Yunda thought she could hear the cabin master's screams in the wind as she reached the first houses of Shebbetin. Like a black shadow, she darted into a narrow alleyway, racing ahead, rounding a corner—and bumped straight into a huge, massive man.

* * *

Manaam had brought the papers over himself, making one of his brief visits to the Snuggery.

Now Torly was leafing through legal texts she could not read. It was all in Vanian, a first draft. With only the slightest of apologetic gestures, Lhut pulled the bottom sheet from Torly's hands and showed Enim and Cahuan the passage he had been referring to in their discussion.

Yoor looked over Torly's shoulder. "A snuggery bag." He began to hop lightly on one foot, his arms spread wide, his torso bending and swaying, like a dancer lazily contemplating taking wing. "A big, round bag," Yoor repeated to himself, lost in his dream. "Hmm. Hm." He stopped suddenly, staring fixedly at Torly. "Say. Will that be for everyone?"

Torly looked up in surprise. "The snuggery bag? No, not for everyone, exactly. It will be for children in need."

"I mean, will everyone be able to drop coin into that bag?" Yoor was beginning to get excited. "We should ask Manaam. That would be just the thing! Just what we need. When we are back in Varoonya, we'll tell people about Shebbetin, and of course everyone will want to contribute. But how? What are they supposed to do?"

Yoor spread out his hands. "This is perfect! People can bring about the Transition is a very easy, direct way. Not just by choosing the Mountain at solstice. But also by changing the structure right away: making the snuggeries happen! No more jewels! Let's have happy children instead of diamonds!"

* * *

"The miners would never agree to that." Kaya shook her head. "They would not want the mines closed. This is their livelihood, after all. And as horrible as life in the mines may be: It is better than nothing."

The wind played with the leaves in the courtyard, turning them this way and that, letting them go with a sigh.

"Maybe we could ask them? You know so many, after all." Enim rubbed a hand along his arm. "They could at least talk about it. Consider whether that might not be the best option after all."

Cahuan looked up from the spoon she was carving. "Yes. I believe it would need a sort of council among the miners. Which we can only suggest, or help initiate. But I also think that as long as people do not see a real alternative, they will cling to the misery they know. And demand only the tiny improvements they can envisage right away."

Lhut gently shifted sleeping little Quena onto his other shoulder. "Then let's tell them about an alternative! Until they begin to imagine their own." He tilted his head to one side. "I can do that. After all, I have lived through it myself. I used to be in a mine. And here I am, happily settled into my new life. If enough coin will come in now, other people will get a chance to walk this path too. To work with children. Or, say, in a bakery, if the previous baker goes to a snuggery."

A loud thump came from the back of the courtyard, followed by a rush of excited voices. Lhut's gaze went to the children instantly, but a moment later, he calmly went on talking. "I have crossed over the hard way." He touched the edge of his thigh. "But fortunately, no one else has to do it like that. They will be able to walk out of the mine on their own two feet, straight into a better kind of work and life. My own world has grown so much richer, so warm, so loving. I can share that with all those holding on to the mine."

* * *

An expectation of dawn was creeping into the vast summer sky, the slightest pale gleam far off to the eastern horizon. Yoor yawned hugely as he staggered across the inn's courtyard. In the dim light of a lantern, Torly had already saddled the horses. Yoor handed her one bag and began to fix the other onto the back of his mount. He leaned his tired head against the horse's warm neck and was rewarded with an encouraging snort down his back.

Torly and Yoor got into the saddle. The air was fresh, and so were the horses, apparently, prancing a little in anticipation of a long ride across the sun-kissed highlands. But just as they rode out of the inn's gate, a shadow shot out from behind the corner. Torly's mare jerked away, rearing lightly and tossing her head.

"Whoa," Torly calmed her down. "Whoa." She squinted into the darkness, where a black outline had pressed back against the wall. "Hello?"

A shady figure detached itself from the stones. Stepping out into the lane, it turned into Kaya. "Good morning." There was a crooked grin on her face. "I come right moment, no? Big surprise."

Torly snorted. "Yes, big surprise. For the horses, especially. But even for us." She dismounted, and so did Yoor behind her.

Kaya waved at them, a negligent don't-worry gesture. "I only come say good-bye." She pushed a small bundle into Yoor's hand, no more than a tied-up kerchief. Yoor held it to his nose, looking at Kaya with raised eyebrows.

"Dry mountain berry. For you, for Varoonya. So you remember." Kaya's eyes sparkled. "We need you now. You find out, make Mountain grouping. So we go Choosing, we go Council. We make Transition in Shebbetin!"

Her voice turned low, urgent. "Do not forget."

A wicked grin stole into her face. "You start grouping, and I say you not no tourist after all. You do very good, and I even say sorry."

Her eyes darkened. She squeezed their arms, with a brief, hard grip.

"Thank you. Good luck."