Slungandi, the seeker of secrets, knew the ways of Kapgar Kûm and its Round Halls like no other in the Midworld. He knew a third path leading down from the summit of Hogunoth. The outside path began at the kâdrollad and wound its way down the hillside to meet the Giants’ great north road. The inside path was a shallow broad incline that plunged into the mountain through an archway on the far side of the Awatekwe Ránag, the Ruined Ring, and after several times changing direction in its descent, joined the passageway of the Upper Level that communicated with the Great Gates. By this passage, Negobith had ascended in state with his followers to meet Father Ingos yesterday, and by the same way, that night, his lamenting, raging attendants had sought shelter after the unexpected catastrophe of their master’s bodily dissolution.
And there was a third path: a stairway. It began some distance below the summit, just off the outside path, within a clump of ash trees and thorn bushes that seemed to cling to the mountainside. On approaching closely, however, a narrow track could be followed on to the ledge where the thicket grew. And behind, in the rock wall, was a door. It was a spellbound door, but, long before, Slungandi had worked for hours in the dark to discover the spell. This opening rune was composed in an ancient dialect, or in a specially altered form, of Ligmanutsi, he did not then know which; but he interpreted the language and found out the spell.
All the ways within Hogunoth had been excavated long ago, in happier times, when the Gangri and Kabadri worked together. They made Kapgar Kûm into a wondrous citadel by connecting the natural caverns and waterways within the mountain. The builders had perished from the earth in the course of the terrible wars, and their knowledge had perished with them, but before the wars were over Slungandi had gathered it to himself.
After seeing off the Entellári carrying the icebound body of Ingos, Slungandi made his way by a roundabout route to the track leading to this door. He came close to the smooth stone surface and placed the point of Sporni at the very middle of the doorway. He called softly:
Maghthúbara khlappârembekhwe!
A dark crack appeared, and then the single square stone swung wide. Immediately inside there was a winding stairway. It wound down to the very roots of Hogunoth. And that was where Slungandi was going first. This stair was called in past times Aulihautias, the Spiral Stairway. But the name, and the stair, were now forgotten by all but a very few. The stairway had been cunningly contrived with long narrow shafts leading to the outside, which cast occasional pools of light; but for most of the way it was dark. Slungandi rubbed upon Sporni, and it began to glow with its own dim icelight, just enough to show him the way.
The door closed behind him. He began his descent. After many windings, he came to a level place where another hidden door gave access to the main halls of Kapgar Kûm. Through the thick stone, with the aid of Sporni, he could hear a dim commotion: the lamenting of the Falakkazri over the dissolution of their Master. He did not linger, but continued his dizzying descent. After much time, he reached the First Level. Here there was another door. That led to a passage that he would shortly use as his way out of the mountain, but not yet. He continued down the unending spiral. There were steps uncounted, and the shaft was made to allow the Gangri to pass up and down, so the height of each step was greater than it would be if a Hyûvanwa or a Kabáda had fashioned it for themselves. Anyone of Slungandi’s smaller stature needed to stretch each leg much further than he would on a usual staircase. It was exhausting and the air below was stifling, for there were no more shafts.
Just when his head was swirling and his lungs giving out, Slungandi reached the lowest level. And here, a little way past a great arch, there was a quay, and beyond it, an underground waterway: the very place to which he had brought Thëanetsa the swanmaiden. But this was not his concern for the moment. On the hither side of the archway, to the right, there was a cavity in the rock. In this cavity lay Gantzor the Coldsword, where Slungandi had bestowed it the night before, in the confusion that followed the Dolorous Stroke. He took it up again, saying:
Gantzor Coldsword, no kin you have.
Now a bright brother shall be born to you.
He unslung Brandubur and strapped Gantzor on his back, then slung Brandubur over his shoulders again. He began the laborious climb all the way up to the First Level. When he reached the door he braced himself, for that door opened into the Eastern Incline, the abode of the Grey Sleeper. Haldo Malvân lurked far down the slope, somewhere halfway between the outer door and the turning into Onskabâ; but who knew what his movements might be? Slungandi breathed the opening spell, stepped into the Eastern Incline, turned to the left, and raced up the slope to the outer door. He spoke the open-rune:
Mathûr hlafaremef.
To his relief the door responded at once. It swung open and he slipped out. It was now night and the valley was in deep darkness. He climbed up into a commodious yew tree that grew nearby and spent an uncomfortable night, not daring even to take Gantzor from his back.
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