The beads of sweat on the smith's broad forehead began to merge into rills and trickle down into his eye-brows. "Princess, were I to tell this outlander such a secret--believe me, you ask me to gamble with my life!" "Yet if you do not tell," Ariadne retorted calmly, "what will happen will involve no gamble!" * * * * * Seconds ticked by while the heavy-thewed chief of craftsmen stared at her. Then, bleakly, he said, "Very well, princess." Another long pause, with Daedalus frowning and tugging at his lower lip. At last: "The only unguarded way to the Minotaur leads through the drainage system, the great sewer-pipes that lie beneath the palace." Burke frowned. "You mean, you'd drop through a manhole here--anywhere on the grounds--and then come up again inside the Labyrinth?" "Exactly," the smith nodded. "But how would you know when you reached the right exit?" "Only one connects with the Labyrinth. A cage of bars cuts off the pipe at that point, so no workman may by accident come up within the Labyrinth and thus meet his doom." Narrow-eyed, Burke brooded on the things the smith had told him. But now Ariadne broke in; and all the poise she'd shown brief moments earlier had vanished: "Dion--you mustn't! Don't you see? This is a trap. Even though you were to slay the Minotaur, you'd never find your way back to safety through all that maze of pitch-black tunnels!" "On the contrary, princess." Burke smiled thinly. "This is one advantage of coming here from another time. It tells me in advance so many of the things that are scheduled to happen." Ignoring her obvious blank bafflement, he again spoke to the smith: "Daedalus, do you have cord here--light, strong line such as you use in laying out the walls of each new building?" "Yes." "Then get some for me." The brawny craftsman crossed to a chest against the wall; brought out a thick skein of twine. "Will this do?" "Is it long enough to guide me to the Labyrinth?" "Yes." "Then that's all I need from you." Burke turned to go. "Wait!" This from Ariadne. Her dark eyes pinned their host's deep-set orbs. "Daedalus, I've a promise to make you." "A promise--?" "A vow, if you will." Never had Ariadne looked more beautiful--or more deadly. Her smile held the shadow of impending doom. "For if there's any trick to this, smith, or if word should reach my father of what's happened here tonight, I swear an hour will come when you'll pray for death to end your agonies!" Then she and Burke were out in the night again, silent as shadows, feeling their way back through the murky maze of alleyways and corridors and buildings to the central court. Burke pulled the girl to a halt there, in the narrow slot between two pillars. "Where are we going?" He held his voice low; spoke with his mouth close to her ear to compensate for the buffeting of the wind. "We can't chance your rooms, you know. That guard's snapped out of it by now."