"All the pantheons have blessed my family with so far is great poverty," came a woman's voice. This time, when the guards pushed to the vicinity, they could not identify the detractor, and the unhelpful crowd gave no hint.

"Who spoke?" demanded the captain of the guards. He swept his glance over a group of four huddled women. They glared at him from beneath gaily colored kerchiefs but said nothing. "Who spoke?" the captain repeated.

After a few moments had passed, Hederick snapped, "That's enough, Captain. Take them all into custody."

"It was me!" cried an exhausted-looking woman in an embroidered skirt and plain black blouse. "Leave the oth shy;ers alone!"

The captain and his guards looked irresolutely from the women to the High Theocrat. "I said take them all," Hed shy;erick ordered. "Now do it, unless you want to find your shy;selves included with them."

The women were dragged, screaming, into Erolydon.

Hederick leveled an angry stare at the crowd. Kifflewit retreated behind the portly man. "Does anyone else yearn to blaspheme the New Gods?" the High Theocrat demanded.

Briefly the people parted, and Kifflewit glimpsed two figures who looked strangely familiar. The blond woman was clothed as a warrior. The man, a seeming beggar, was festooned with clumps of hair atop his head, and his cheeks and chin were bright with new cuts. The crowd closed again, and Kifflewit couldn't see what happened next.

At that moment, a new disturbance broke out from the direction of Erolydon. The guards hauled a man, gagged and bound, through the crowd and threw him down at the base of Hederick's stile.

"A mage of evil!" the portly man above Kifflewit breathed. Entranced, the kender made his way past a few people to get a better look. A black-robed mage! You didn't see too many avowed mages these days, with feel shy;ings running high against them and all. And an evil mage was even rarer.

Hederick gazed serenely down at the black-robed mage. "Your hands are bound, your mouth stopped, to prevent you from unleashing a heinous spell amid these believers. I prefer to allow my prisoners last words before I pronounce a sentence of death, but I'm sure you would agree that that would be a mistake in your case." He chuckled.

The man, whose severe features and gimlet stare hinted at his alignment with Evil, managed to look disdainful.

"That's not fair, High Theocrat!" Kifflewit said. "He should get a chance to talk, like everyone else." In a twin shy;kling, the kender had drawn out a knife and skipped over to the captive mage. A moment later, and he had slit both gag and ropes. The mage sat up, rubbing his wrists.

Hederick and his guards stood stunned for a moment. The crowd edged back as speedily as possible.

"Repent, mage," the High Theocrat finally choked out.

"Commend your soul to the grace of the New Gods."

The wizard laughed. Suddenly he was standing.

Hederick's guards leaped toward the mage.

The black-robed wizard sprinkled powder retrieved from a packet hidden in his boot and swept one hand around him in a huge circle. "Anelor armida na refinej!" The guards doubled over as if they'd been poleaxed.

The High Theocrat fumbled inside his robe and pulled out a leather-wrapped bundle. The Diamond Dragon! It had to be! Kifflewit rejoiced.

"Hederick!" the mage shouted. "You call me evil, yet you cannot see the same in yourself! Centriep ystendalet trewykyl. See, then, what you have brought upon yourself. Gantendestin milsivantid!"

Hederick untied the leather. The Diamond Dragon glit shy;tered on his palm.

"There it is! The Diamond Dragon! Let me get a closer look!" Kifflewit cried and bounded up the stile.

"Cariax povokiet zvrekanenet res," the mage shouted at that precise moment.

The kender reached for the dragon and found it in his grasp. Suddenly, an explosion sent him crashing to the earth. He heard screams, smelled burning grass and something worse, and rolled sideways under the stile as people stampeded, seeking escape. The kender raised his head. The back gate was locked. There were only two get shy;aways: over the wall to the lake, for those few who could swim, and back through the temple Erolydon. The crowd ebbed and surged, unsure which way led to safety.

There was no sign of the mage.

Kifflewit crawled out from under the stile, clutching the Diamond Dragon. "Wasn't that exciting?" he said to no one in particular. "Where'd the mage go? Did he disap shy;pear? Turn into a bird? Fly away? What-"

He turned and saw the body on the stile. The outflung hand still clasped the thong and empty leather cover that had masked the Diamond Dragon. The puffy face had relaxed. The blue robe was blackened and tattered.

In the center of the High Theocraf s chest was a scorched hole the size of a fist. Hederick's heart was gone.

It was enough to silence even a kender. Kifflewit crawled up on the stile. "Gee, I'm sorry," he said to the corpse. "You were really fond of this." He held out the Diamond Dragon. "You probably would have wanted to have it with you when you died." The kender sighed. "Well, you can have it back now, if you like." He held his hand, the one with the Diamond Dragon in it, above the High Theocrat's lifeless palm.

"No, Kifflewit!" came a shout.

That voice. Tarscenian? The kender looked over his shoulder just as he dropped the artifact into Hederick's hand. But this wasn't Tarscenian; this was that beggar. And what a mess he was!

At that moment, Hederick's hand grasped the kender's wrist.

Kifflewit gave a squawk. Hederick held his wrist firmly. The kender could only stare in fascination as color returned to Hederick's flaccid cheeks. Then the pale blue eyes opened-and the wound closed in the High Theo shy;crat's chest.

"But you can't live without a heart!" Kifflewit protested as he yanked his wrist away.

Hederick sat up, his face devoid of expression. Kifflewit held out the thong and rewrapped leather. "I think you lost these," the kender said apologetically. Wordless, Hed shy;erick accepted the gift.

And then Kifflewit was off through the crowd, scrambling over the rocks and up the wall, and diving into the lake. He swam underwater until a change in the light told him he'd passed beyond Erolydon's walls. Then he surfaced, turned south, and paddled in that direction until the Seeker temple had vanished behind the trees.

At last Kifflewit Burrthistle climbed up on a boulder. The sun was warm, the sky cloudless. A warm breeze promised to dry his clothes in short order. A perfect day, really.

Perfect for examining the Diamond Dragon at leisure, he thought, pulling the artifact from his pocket.

Kifflewit hoped idly that Hederick didn't have the same goal in mind. If he did, the High Theocrat would find nothing in his precious leather packet but one of Phy-tos's stones.

* * * * *

Astinus, historian of the Great Library ofPalanthas, gazed at the words he had written. The ink had not even dried yet.

The sentence had come to him in the middle of a routine his shy;tory of the doings in the northern kingdom of Kern. The leader of that kingdom was showing disturbing signs of following in the footsteps of his late uncle, whose campaign to conquer the world had been narrowly stopped only a short time before.

And then Astinus's hand had written the words that stood out from the page now as though etched inflame: "And at that moment, two apprentice scribes in the library at Palanthas attempted to alter the course of history."

Although Astinus's expression of alert concentration didn't change, an assistant gasped as he looked over the chief histo shy;rian's shoulder and saw the latest notation. Astinus gave no sign that he'd heard the aide.

The historian merely gazed at the sentence and waited patiently.