snapped their metal-shod heels together in attention. Mors held out his hand and Di An took it. As she led him away, the elf girl turned and regarded the frustrated Que-Shu men. Her look was troubled.
“I have decided to go with you,” Catchflea whispered.
“Are you sure?” Riverwind said, similarly hushed. They were in the barracks of the Hall of Arms. Hestite warriors were all around them.
The old soothsayer said, “Being compelled to stay is not good, yes. And, as you said, the augury of the acorns cannot be dismissed.” He gripped Riverwind's arm. “My place is with you, tall man.”
“Good!” Even more softly, Riverwind said, “How will we escape?”
“I don't know… if we run, we would be lost in the tunnels. And I would not care to trust Mors's mercy if we run and are caught again.”
“He has a hard heart,” Riverwind agreed. “If I leave you here, he will never let you go, I believe. So we must escape.”
“But how? The Hestites know these caves far better than we do, yes.”
They went back and forth in low tones until a warrior and a Blue Sky digger came to take Catchflea. Mors wanted to arrange the distribution of stored grain, and he needed the old man's advice.
“I will see you again,” Riverwind said significantly.
“I am sure of it, tall man.” The old soothsayer cut a strange figure in his ragged clothes, flanked on one side by a warrior in lion-embossed armor and a male digger in black copper mesh on the other. Riverwind watched them go with many misgivings.
Riverwind walked the empty corridors of the palace. They were filled with wreckage left by the Blue Sky People after they despoiled the place. The plainsman stepped over bits of furniture, wall hangings, and other things he could not recognize. The Blue Sky People had a great deal of rage. Li El had been a manipulative tyrant, but Riverwind found he could not hate her. Mors, on the other hand, was an iron-fisted dreamer, and Riverwind disliked him completely. As he walked the halls, the plainsman tried to sort out why he felt that way. Some residual effect of Li El's impersonation of Goldmoon, perhaps?
He stopped suddenly as a dim figure popped out of a side corridor. The stranger stepped into a slim band of light from an open skylight.
“Hello, Di An,” said Riverwind.
“Did I startle you, giant?”
“A bit. You're not sleeping now?”
“I couldn't.” She came closer. “I have bad dreams.”
He smiled at the girl. “I have them, too, sometimes. When that happens, I go out of the village into the forest and sleep under the stars.”
Di An wrinkled her forehead in thought. “I have seen stars. Those are the little coals that glow in the dark sky?”
He nodded. It was easy to forget that Di An had been to the surface.
Di An had been to the surface!
Riverwind knelt and grasped the elf girl by the shoulders. She stiffened. “Are we friends?” he asked. “Do you trust Catchflea and me?”
In the low light, her eyes had an almost reddish cast. “I do. You saved me from Karn, back in the tunnel.”
“Catchflea and I need your help. We want to go home.”
“Mors wants the old giant to stay.”
“He wants you to stay, too. If the three of us went, we'd all get what we want.”
“Mors would be very angry,” she said. “Who would be his ambassador?”
Riverwind shook his head. “I don't have to be the one. You could do it, Di An. Your people have enough gold and gems to buy anything they need from the upper world. Catchflea and I have our own lives to lead.”
She moved out of his grasp and considered what he had said. Finally, she asked, “Is there a giant woman for you?”
He had to chuckle. Goldmoon, a giant! “Well, yes. I want to get back to Goldmoon.”
Di An looked away, a mask of frustration coming across her small, sharp face. “Our fight against Li El is finally over, and more and more I wish to have a say in what happens. No one here listens to me. I'm only a barren child. Mors doesn't really need me; any child could lead him. He doesn't listen to me either.”
Riverwind phrased his next sentence carefully. “Di An, there are many wise people in the upper world,” he said. “One of them might be able to help you.”
“Do you think so?” Her voice was loud with excitement.
“Shh. I would not say it if I didn't think so.”
Di An glanced furtively left and right. “I do know ways to the surface that no one else knows. It could be done.” Her countenance darkened. “Mors would never forgive me if I left.”
Riverwind stood. “I won't ask you to do anything you don't wish to do. But you can help yourself and your people. Time is short. I'm being sent tomorrow.”
Di An chewed her lower lip as she considered. “The old giant sleeps in the Hall of Arms. We can fetch him,” she said. Riverwind felt relief wash over him. She turned and dashed off along the dark corridor.
“Di An, wait!” he hissed. Riverwind followed, banging his shins on table legs and chairs that crouched broken in the shadows. “Wait for me!” he called hoarsely.
They met again on the short causeway leading from the palace to the Hall of Arms. Vartoom was eerily calm. The furnaces and forges were still idle, and the streets barren of elves. Hand in hand, the tall plainsman and the elf girl stole down the sloping bridge.
The Hall of Arms was filled with snores and snorts. Warriors slept in every available spot. Di An moved lightly around the recumbent forms. Riverwind had to walk with great care. More than once he nudged a sleeping soldier, but the Hestite merely grumbled and rolled away from River-wind's feet.
Catchflea lay with his back against a curving buttress, hands folded across his stomach. Di An and Riverwind stood over him. The elf girl looked to Riverwind. He nodded. She bent over to prod the old man awake, but before she touched him, Catchflea's eyes opened.
“Greetings,” he whispered. Di An was so surprised, she lost her balance and sat down hard. Her copper clothing made a loud
“Shh,” came a voice from the darkened hall. “Tryin' t'sleep…”
Riverwind hauled Catchflea to his feet. Clumsily the three of them crept out of the hall.
“What's this about?” Catchflea said when they were on the causeway.
Riverwind ruffled Di An's short hair. “I've made a pact with Di An. She is going to guide us up and out.”
Catchflea blinked and looked toward the girl. “Oh? And what do you get out of this pact?”
“I'm to grow up,” the elf girl said importantly. Catchflea opened his mouth to say something further, but Riverwind forestalled him.
“Time is short,” the tall warrior said. “We must gather supplies and get away before Mors notices our absence.”
“Wait,” Catchflea said. “I want to consult the acorns.” Di An was baffled, so Riverwind explained what the acorns could do.
Catchflea knelt at the mouth of the cave and silently intoned the magical words. He then overturned the gourd.
“Well?” asked Riverwind.
“It's not good. Are you certain you want to hear it?”
“Go ahead.”
'The oracle says, 'One will die, one will go mad, and one will find glory.' ” No one spoke for a long time.
Finally, Riverwind cleared his throat. “You know, old man, you haven't handled those acorns in quite some time. Maybe you've forgotten how to read them.”
