By full daylight they found themselves in a chestnut¹ grove². They stopped to fill their pouches³. The last mile was made in the hot warmth of the sun. At the top of the ridge⁴ they stopped to rest.

As they did, they feasted their eyes on the orderly groves⁵ below them. But Henry's eyes were seeking out the squares of brown among the green of the lower valley. He counted twenty. Far more than he realized. The defrosters had gone dead at intervals⁶, years apart.

His eyes crept up the valley to the structure at its head, with the captive lake behind it. It must be the House of the Old Ones the old stories told about but no one had ever seen. From it they had worked the magic that made the valley what it was. There, they said, they could be seen and heard to speak.

If he could get to see the Old Ones, ask them questions, perhaps they would tell him what should be done.

"Where are we going now?" Theta asked.

"To the House of the Old Ones. Up there," he said, pointing. "Perhaps they can tell us something."

She clutched his arm. "You can't!" she cried. "They'll ... they'll...."

"They'll what?"

"I don't know! Something awful!"

"That's what they said about the learning house, but there was nothing in it but dust. I found, from the size of the chairs, that you had to start learning almost from the time you walked. I didn't even know how to start!"

"Then you didn't learn anything?"

"Nothing."

He came to his feet. "You don't have to go if you don't want to."

"I go where you go," she said with stubborn determination.

They had to dip down below the force fence to find water, then keep to the harvested portions where the Masters had gone to Town for the winter. They were lucky in finding houses where the keys had been lost, and thus had been left unlocked.

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