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He
opened
his
eyes
.
He
was
in
the
old
private
audience
room
.
The
Patrician
was
sitting
in
his
old
seat
,
one
leg
crossed
on
the
other
,
watching
him
with
mild
interest
.
"
Ah
,
Wonse
,
"
he
said
.
Wonse
jumped
,
scrabbled
at
the
doorhandle
,
leapt
into
the
corridor
and
ran
for
it
until
he
reached
the
main
staircase
,
rising
now
through
the
ruins
of
the
central
palace
like
a
forlorn
corkscrew
.
Stairs
-
height
-
high
ground
-
defence
.
He
ran
up
them
three
at
a
time
.
All
he
needed
was
a
few
minutes
of
peace
.
Then
he
’
d
show
them
.
The
upper
floors
were
more
full
of
shadows
.
What
they
were
short
on
was
structural
strength
.
Pillars
and
walls
had
been
torn
out
by
the
dragon
as
it
built
its
cave
.
Rooms
gaped
pathetically
on
the
edge
of
the
abyss
.
Dangling
shreds
of
wall
-
hanging
and
carpet
flapped
in
the
wind
from
the
smashed
windows
.
The
floor
sprang
and
wobbled
like
a
trampoline
as
Wonse
scurried
across
it
.
He
struggled
to
the
nearest
door
.
"
That
was
commendably
fast
,
"
said
the
Patrician
.
Wonse
slammed
the
door
in
his
face
and
ran
,
squeaking
,
down
a
corridor
.
Sanity
took
a
brief
hold
.
He
paused
by
a
statue
.
There
was
no
sound
,
no
hurrying
footsteps
,
no
whirr
of
hidden
doors
.
He
gave
the
statue
a
suspicious
look
and
prodded
it
with
the
sword
.
