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.A few had been political prisoners sent away from Earth or otherplanets to the metal-poor desert world of Austar.Some of those prisoners must have had skills beyondthe ordinary.What if that First Makker was one? And what if other escapees had joined him andremained hidden within the bowels of the mountains, generation after generation? It made sense.Makksaid they were Men of Bonds.And if the secret of the metal making had passed down from father to sonover the years& He suddenly realized Makk had stopped sending and was staring at him.Jakkin staredback, the wall around his thoughts carefully constructed again.Makk nodded and the sendings came again. We Men of Great Mother, Flesh of her flesh.Blood of herblood One day go to place of Bonds and throw them over. The sending was dark red, the red of angerand fire and blood, but Makk s hands were raised as if in ecstasy.Jakkin didn t understand what that meant at all.Some ritual of eating, perhaps? M%at if they insisted heeat with them? Could he do it? Did he dare refuse again? And if these strange men really did plan to go outside and fight, shouldn t he warn the outsiders? After all, the closest civilized place to these mountainswas Sarkkhan s Nursery, where he had grown up.His friends were there.But if he managed to get out,the last place he should go would be the nursery.Surely any searchers would have spies there.His mind in a turmoil, he drew in a breath and carefully drew aside the curtain over his thoughts to let asending out. The Great Mothers, where are they? And where is the Place of Women? Makk lowered his hands and came close to Jakkin, touching him on the shoulder. What place you? Toohigh for here.Too thin for here.No Bands.Yet speak without noise.Not like Others. Others? What others? Long ago Others. He did not elaborate.A man who had been sitting at the far end of the table stood up and came over to Jakkin, placing hishand on top of Makk s. What place? Jakkin thought a long time before answering, careful to cloak his mind till the last.Sweat beaded hisforehead. I come from another Place, another mountain, another cave. He knew suddenly that to admitbeing from the outside was inviting death. There we wear no Bands but we, too, know the GreatMothers.I am blood of the blood with a great red He wouldn t tell them how he d shared the dragon sblood, though her rainbow sign broke across his sending, a memory of that generous spirit he couldn tkeep out.The colorful sending seemed to startle the men.Makk s hand dropped from his shoulder and everyonedrew away mentally.Jakkin wondered if it was the color or the joy in the sending that had so provokedthem.Then he shook his head, continuing: I came to your place with my& woman. He bet Akki would be furious if she knew he d called herthat.Makk nodded, but still kept his distance. Yes.We know this.She in Place of Women. It was Jakkin s turn to be startled.He walked over to Makk and put his hand on the man s broadshoulder.At the touch he was able to see right into Makk s mind.So that was it! He made the sending asstrong as he could: I want my woman.That is how it is done in MY place. When he took his handaway Makk s mind snapped shut like some kind of trap.Makk s fingers moved swiftly, then his sharp sending pierced Jak kin s mind. Now you eat. Not that stuff., I Turning, Makk signed toward one of the men at a table.He rose and brought overanother bowl.This one was filled with a dark jellied substance.Jakkin took the bowl and tipped iteagerly into his mouth.He recognized congealed boil and chikkberries, but there was also a greenish, bittersweet taste thatlingered after he had finished the food and made his mouth feel clean and good.Only later did he realize what that meant: chikkberries and boil.The men of the cave didn t just stay inside.Somewhere there had to be an easy access to outside, to ameadow.He wondered when and how he might dare to ask.chapter 18 MAKK MADE IT clear, though it took many sendings, that if Jakkin didn t work like the other men, hewouldn t be fed again.Nor would he be allowed to go to the Place of Women when it was time. Time? Jakkin had sent, hoping for an explanation.He d already given up on the food.Somehow,somewhere, there was a supply of fresh growing things, but certainly not in the bowels of the cave.But Makk had only reiterated the same images, of sun and moons, clear notations of time.And sincethere was no way for Jakkin to find the Place of Women on his own, or to feed himself, for that matter,he worked.He wasn t happy about it, but he worked, reminding himself to stay alert and learn as muchas he could.Standing on the high shelf of rock and taking his turn at stirring pots of fire, Jakkin felt alternately hot andcold.The flames scared his front, but there was a cold breeze across his shoulders and along the backsof his knees.His arms ached from the unaccustomed labor and his mind was weary from the twin effortsof cloaking and listening.But the more he saw of the metal-making operation, the more he realized itsimportance.And the more he realized bitterly that he was powerless to let the rest of Austar know.After hours with the great iron rod, Jakkin was relieved by a silent, hulking worker who signaled him witha hand on the back.When Jakkin turned away from the shelf there was Makk again, ready to lead him toanother portion of the cave where men were grubbing around the walls, using metal picks the size offewmet shovels, mining out the stuff Makk called ore.Following behind these men was a crew ofworkers with sling bags full of phosphorescent moss, which they placed wherever a vein of the ore hadbeen picked out.Despite Makk s attempts at an explanation, and the instruction of his own eyes andears, Jakkin wasn t sure if the moss was used as tunnel markers for the pickers, for light, for decoration,or a combination of all three.By the time it was his turn on the moss detail, Jakkin was openly yawning, but no one seemed to notice.The bag s straps were made for broader shoulders thain his and kept slipping.The cool, flaky mosseswere not as easy to set in place as he d thought.They had to be bent and shaped and tucked into the oreholes, and most of the time they crumbled between his inept fingers.He was just beginning to get the feel of it, under the gruff tutelage of a one-eyed man he called Brekk (hissign was simply a single staring eye), when there was a loud gonging that echoed and reechoed off thecave walls.At the sound, so loud in the enforced silence of the tunnels, the men set down their tools andbags and shuffled to the main cavern.Jakkin followed them.It was only when he was back in the main cave that he realized it was a shift change, much likeSarkkhan s Nursery, where a few of the bond boys had night-watch duty and others worked in the day.He almost laughed aloud remembering his friends Errikkin, who loved being in bond, and Slakk, who dtry anything to get out of work.Brekk pushed him toward a small crevice where there was a grassy pallet set upon the stone
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