It occurred to Them, at this point, to wonder for how long They had been captive.
"A thousand years," suggested It which had once watched the North Gate.
"More," argued the former guardian of the South Gate.
"No," countered East. "Five centuries at most."
"Perhaps," hinted West, "If We listen and observe carefully, We could find out. Look, to the wall of black slate: the date is there marked."
They crowded once more to the small window that the Boy had left uncovered. Sure enough, scrawled in white dust was the day, April 7, 1483.
"See there," South stated smugly. "Twelve hundred, thirty-six years We have waited here. Unfortunately, She who imprisoned us is doubtlessly long dead, so We cannot have the satisfaction of revenge."
East continued to look out through the gap. "The People have forgotten Us," It remarked mournfully.
"But Sichtir has not forgotten Us," replied West. "Even if only the most ancient of its stones recall Our name and deeds."
"Rest assured," North added. "Soon, they will remember. And they shall never forget Us again. Our escape is nigh!"