the sharp steel dig into the gold of her robe.
“Now,” she said very softly. “Kill me, Mors. Run me through. It's what you want to do, isn't it?” The throne room rang with tension. Mors stood with his head turned slightly away from the queen, listening for movement. When he did not immediately strike, a tiny smile lifted Li El's lips.
“You can't do it,” she whispered. “You can't hurt me.”
“I cannot,” Mors said, whipping the sword away. A small, involuntary gasp was drawn from Li El as the sword point flicked across her stomach. “Because it is not my place to take personal revenge. It is for them to say what happens to you.” He waved over his shoulder to the mass of awed diggers.
Li El laughed. Sweet aromas wafted through the room and far-off chimes tinkled. “Them?” she said. “How can they possibly judge me?”
“A trial,” Catchflea interjected.
“Yes, a trial,” Riverwind added. “Let the new masters of Hest judge the old.”
The queen's laughter died. A frown darkened her face, and she raised her hand to point at the Que-Shu men. Riverwind braced himself for a spell, but Mors heard her moving and brought his sword tip up to her neck, just below her right ear.
“If you so much as breathe, I'll have your head off right now. And you know I will do it.” Li El lowered her hand. Mors smiled, tight-lipped and sardonic. “I like this notion of a trial. We can seat a panel of diggers as judges, and I will act as their advocate.”
“No,” she hissed. “You would let a band of dirty, ignorant diggers decide my fate?”
“Who better?” Riverwind said. “They know your cruelty and indifference better than anyone.”
“Never!”
Mors's smile evaporated. “It will be done.”
So intent was everyone on the exchange between Mors and his queen, no one noticed as Karn opened his eyes. He took in the scene, heard his mother and father trade hateful words. When Mors resolved to have Li El tried and executed, Karn heaved himself to his feet. The plight of his mother and queen had steeled his weakened body to action. Pale, stooping, his face white with pain and a lifetime of anger, he attacked.
“Mors! Watch out for Karn!” But the blind elf didn't know where Karn was. He swung his sword in a fast circle to ward off his son. Karn waited until the blade had passed and leaped on his father. Riverwind and Catchflea moved to help Mors. The diggers began to shout, and Li El lifted her hands…
She uttered a single word in an ancient tongue, and a veil of impenetrable darkness fell upon the room. Over all the tumult Mors's voice roared, “Block all the doors! Use your own bodies if you must-but don't let them escape!”
Riverwind felt several small bodies bounce off him and go reeling away in the darkness. A door clanged against stone, and a shaft of reddish light intruded on the queen's spell. A door to the hearth room had swung open as diggers pressed to get out. The eternal flame, cold and unchanging, still burned on the hearth, though its light was muted. And even more weirdly, the statue of Great Hest and the body of Vvelz glowed like beacons. Black shadows flitted to and fro between Riverwind and the light of the hearth.
A scream. Riverwind knew a death cry when he heard it. “Catchflea! Are you all right?!” he shouted.
“I'm alive, tall man.”
With equal suddenness, the darkness ended. He spied Catchflea across the room, bent over, examining something on the floor. Riverwind pushed through the crowd and found the old soothsayer standing over the bleeding body of Karn.
“He grappled with Mors and lost,” Catchflea said sadly.
Riverwind asked, “Is there anything you can do?”
“Not for a wound like that. If Vvelz were here…” Catchflea covered his face with his hands. “It's all too much, tall man. Just too much.”
“I know.” He laid a hand on Catchflea's shoulder. “Where are Mors and Li El?”
Catchflea raised his head. “I don't know. I didn't see them.”
The diggers tore down the wall of golden curtains and discovered a secret door. It was ajar. Riverwind appropriated a sword from a Blue Sky fighter and kicked the door fully open. He found himself at the bottom of a stairway leading up. He charged up the steps, the old plainsman and a hundred diggers on his heels. The stairs bent right and continued up. They ended on a long, straight corridor. Riverwind charged into the corridor.
And was rudely shoved back. There seemed to be nothing in his way, so he tried again. Once more an invisible barrier threw him back.
“Li El has blocked this way!” he said.
Di An wormed her way to the front of the crowd. “We can try the promenade,” she panted. “Out there!”
The front facade of the palace featured a long balcony, which ran along its second story. The whole group reversed direction and ran downstairs. Di An led the Que-Shu men to a concealed set of steps on the outside of the building that reached the promenade.
“How did you know this was here?” asked Catchflea.
“Master Vvelz took me this way before,” the girl replied.
The diggers were inflamed now, outraged that Li El might have escaped and might have hurt their leader Mors, too. They tore the ornamental metal shutters off the windows and climbed in. Some returned to unlatch the heavy doors off the promenade so the Que-Shu men could enter. The mob ransacked luxurious sleeping rooms and found great stores of food, which the hungriest fell upon ravenously. The whole affair was degenerating into a riot of plunder when the cry went up that Mors had been found.
Riverwind ran, covering long stretches of polished metal tile with his long legs. Di An puffed along in his wake. He skidded to a stop when he saw the floor ahead had fallen in. Mors stood on a narrow fragment of stone, surrounded on all sides by a deep drop. He and the stone he stood on floated in midair.
“What holds up your feet?” Catchflea said.
“Li El's joke,” Mors replied from his perch. He was calm, but deeply angry. “The floor collapsed around me, as you see. I cannot move. If I even lift one foot, the spell supporting this stone will instantly end.”
“We need a rope,” Riverwind said.
Di An arrived and saw his predicament. “Mors!” she cried.
“Be still, Di An. I'm not dead yet.”
Di An grabbed the digger nearest her and yelled in his face, “We'll do a mine pick-up! Understand?” The digger agreed enthusiastically.
Riverwind moved out of the way as fifteen diggers threw themselves face-down on the floor. Twelve sat on top of their fellows, linking their arms around the legs of the digger behind. Ten more climbed over them, leaning farther and farther out over the hole. Eight more piled on top of this, then six on top of that, making a lopsided pyramid of living bodies. The two diggers who clambered far out to the end were just an arm's length from Mors.
Di An scaled the living mound as the last link. She crept forward on all fours, deftly finding holds in the sea of bent backs and entwined limbs. She reached Mors and wrapped her thin arms around his neck.
“An Di, what are you doing?” he asked in shock.
“Saving you,” she replied. “Climb on.”
The digger pyramid swayed and groaned under the added strain of Mors's weight, but it held. He climbed to safety, then Di An returned. All the others, from the farthest back, climbed home. As she held Mors's hand tightly, Di An explained to an astonished Riverwind that the technique was one the diggers used to rescue comrades in mine disasters.
“Never mind that now. Li El must be found!” cried Mors.
It didn't take long. The diggers were ranging all over the palace, and a group that was looting the upper floors found Li El hiding in an alcove. She sent them shrieking down the corridor.
Mors and Catchflea entered the end of the hall just as Riverwind and a swarm of armed diggers filled the opposite end. Li El ran toward them, meaning to scatter them like chaff, until they presented a hedge of unwavering sword points. She turned back toward Mors.
Her golden hood was down, and her dark hair was in disarray. She lifted her arms as if to cast some dread spell, but her arms shook so violently that she dropped them quickly to her sides. Desperation gleamed on her sweat-sheened face.
