Indeed, Hederick had had such a dream, between the executions of Mendis Vakon and Crealora Senternal. But what purpose could the New Gods have in exposing him to ridicule like this?

The High Theocrat prayed to Sauvay, but no relief came. Just the voice, so much like Hederick's own, spill shy;ing forth, babbling.

"I was alone in the cellar," the voice boomed. "It was dark, but I could see a crack of light. There was a door somewhere. There'd always been a door, but now I couldn't find it. They'd moved it! Venessi and Con, my parents, had hidden the door. On the opposite side of the cellar, they'd opened a crack to provide air."

People in the audience glanced at each other nervously, but no one said anything. Several priests looked curious, but none dared interrupt the High Theocrat during a holy revelation. That would be tantamount to challenging the gods themselves. Dahos was standing at the bottom of the pulpit steps, his face pale and worried, duties obviously forgotten.

Hederick's voice rose suddenly to a piercing shriek. "Don't you see people? Are you blind-or merely stupid? They'd locked me in! I could hear them piling dirt where the door had been. Con and Venessi, my own parents! I heard them pounding nails into the doorjamb, sealing the basement shut! And I was sealed inside1."

The words came in spurts now, like vomited blood. "And then I saw … another light… a wider crack … as wide as my hand…. And I knew … that if I were careful … and held my breath … I could turn sideways … and escape through the crack. I could become that thin, as thin as that crack. I could! I moved … toward the light… in my dream I turned sideways…."

Sweat poured down Hederick's forehead. A breeze from the open doors caressed his damp hair, and he shiv shy;ered. His tongue was dry; his throat hurt. He yearned to swallow.

The blessed mead. If only the High Theocrat could reach it, wet his mouth, soothe his throat. His hands groped for his goblet.

The voice, this visitation from Ancilla's Presence, had to be quelled. Hederick tried to speak, but only dry whim shy;pers emerged. Then the voice returned in full force.

"I turned to slide through the crack … I was going to escape… and then I saw them. Dozens of them-no, hun shy;dreds! Hundreds of spiders! Black and evil. Insatiable."

Hederick could see that the earlier mood of holiness had left the people. No longer were they converts awaiting the truths of the Seekers, but children listening to a good bed shy;time story. Novitiates, who had sunk to their knees on marble stairs, were also listening raptly. Brown-robed priests in various stages of shock stood around motionless.

The voice spoke again, hurriedly, breathlessly. "And then … and then I remembered something…. I cried out to my father. 'Con!' I screamed. 'Feed the spiders! Feed the spiders!' I moved toward the voracious insects, drawn as if by a web. I couldn't stop; I drew closer. The spiders reared back to receive me, to devour me .. . and Con didn't hear me! My own father didn't hear me! Don't you see? Don't any of you idiots understand?"

Hederick's right hand, unseen under the lectern, touched the mead goblet. He tried to force his rigid fin shy;gers to grasp the stem. The High Theocrat looked wildly around the room. Why did none of his priests step in? And why wouldn't his fingers do his bidding, by the accursed Pantheons?

He felt the goblet tip, heard it break. The pitcher from which he'd filled the goblet was under the altar, behind him. Hederick made himself turn and stretch toward it. His left hand found the mead pitcher and hefted it. It was empty.

Still the voice continued. Even with his back turned, the false voice sounded as clear as the evening gong that called believers to revelations. Ancilla's Presence, only an arm's length away, cocked its ghostly head to one side.

"Don't you see?" Hederick shouted. "It was his duty to feed the spiders-Con's duty, my father's! Don't you see?" The voice rose to a wail. "If he didn't feed them, the spiders would find food somewhere else. And the only thing down there to eat… was me!"

A scream rocked the Great Chamber. To the onlookers, it seemed as though the sound came from Hederick, but the High Theocrat knew it had burst forth from the Pres shy;ence.

As suddenly as the spell had taken Hederick, it left. He slumped over the altar, ill with vertigo, nearly retching. The sounds of the rabble soared around him.

"Did you hear?" "What was that all about?" "That's not like the other revelations." "What does it mean?" "Is the Theocrat growing senile?" "Perhaps he's a prophet." "Do the gods really speak through Hederick?" "What do we do now?" "Is it over?" "Can we leave?" Babies cried. A few older children whined. Hederick forced himself upright. Instead of the Pres shy;ence, Dahos stood at the top of the stairs. The Plainsman held out a clean cloth in one hand and a spare chalice filled with mead in the other.

The crowd stilled amid a chorus of "Hush!" and "There's more!"

Hederick took the tiny goblet, dragged himself to the pulpit, tried to speak, and broke into a paroxysm of coughing. He rolled the blessed beverage around his mouth, but it was as though his tongue itself absorbed the liquid. There was little left to swallow.

"Tonight…" Hederick, relieved to hear his own voice again, coughed and tried to speak. "Tonight…"

Dahos was at his side once more, holding out a small object. The Diamond Dragon! Hederick snatched the arti shy;fact. "Tonight, we have been in the presence of some shy;thing …" How to describe it? If he said it were evil, would that suggest that Solace's own High Theocrat was vulnera shy;ble to diabolical forces? "… in the presence of something stronger than us, something holy. It is yet to be explained, but rest assured that the answer will come. The New Gods will explain all in the end."

The High Theocrat paused to gather his strength and look around the Great Chamber. Ancilla the lizard-woman was gone.

The crowd remained. All those staring eyes-wanting something, demanding something. Why was it always Hederick's lot to provide? His mind was as empty as a wind-scoured desert.

He clutched the Diamond Dragon to his chest. "So be it," he rasped out. "Tonight's revelation is over."

Hederick, High Theocrat of Solace, bolted past Dahos, down the steps and out the double doors.

Marya put down the quill and rubbed her eyes. Olven stood in the shadows next to the door of the Great Library, waiting to take his turn at the desk. He was unsure whether Marya had heard him enter, she was so still.

At this hour of the night, only a few scribes, all of them apprentices, remained in the Palanthas library. Those few sat as silently as Marya did, on stools and chairs before desks that held numerous quills and pieces of parchment. Each desk was illumi shy;nated by a single candle, which cast a small circle of yellow light. The rest of the library was pitch-black. At night in the Great Library of Palanthas, there was no gray-only light and dark. Astinus was in his private study down the hall, not to be disturbed.

"Isn't there something we can do?" Marya finally asked, not seeming to expect an answer.

So she was aware of him. Olven had not read the latest pas shy;sage, the one that Marya had recorded. But he remembered his own feelings of helplessness after inscribing his most recent seg shy;ment ofHederick's current schemes.

"We are doing something, Marya," he said, affecting a confi shy;dence he certainly didn't feel. "We're recording the actions of a madman. The world will judge him, even if we can't. Remember our oath of neutrality."

"Yet you've read Eban's work on Hederick's a. aood," Marya returned. "Hederick wasn't always evil. Look at the things that happened to him when he was still an innocent child. He was just… adapting."