Listen who can

Come hither and bend

Your backs to our task.

The vassals of Her Highness

Are needed with haste.

Thirty elves, all clad in digger black, filed down the ramp. Some got behind the wagon to push, others packed in around the crowded trace poles to help pull.

Riverwind dug an elbow in Catchflea's side. “I'm going to help,” he said. The old man unhesitatingly followed the tall warrior. They leaned over the backs of the shorter diggers and planted their hands against the rear of the wagon. The diggers paid them no mind, but the soldiers snickered and made rude comments.

“Ugh-pay them no mind,” Catchflea said. “Oof!”

Riverwind narrowed his eyes at the soldiers. “No proper warrior despises hard labor,” he grunted. “No man is better than the work he does with his own hands.”

The slope eventually vanished, and the wagon rolled forward in a rush. Vvelz dispersed the diggers and stepped down from his place. Karn and the soldiers followed.

“Why have we stopped?” Karn asked.

“I thought it would be instructive for the giants to see the city in a more leisurely fashion,” Vvelz replied smoothly. “We can always get more drudges if we need them.”

The broad street that fronted the terrace was thick with diggers. They paid little attention to Riverwind and Catch-flea, but moved about their tasks with heads downcast and shoulders drooping. Catchflea watched them intently, his wizened face a mix of pity and thoughtful speculation.

“They have no wills of their own,” Riverwind said. To Vvelz, he added, “Is it magic that keeps them docile?”

“Certainly not! The common folk of Hest are diligent and loyal to their masters. No magic compunction is necessary. Oh, we do use the Call and the Summons on them, but only to give them direction and purpose. The diggers are docile because they are content.”

Riverwind could not believe it. He recalled Di An's frantic scramble to resume her place pulling the wagon. Fear made people act that way, not loyalty.

“Enough idle wagging,” Karn said. He raised his sword an inch out of its scabbard and slammed it back down. “Her Highness awaits!”

The soldiers formed around the Que-Shu men, two behind and one on each side. Vvelz and Karn led the way. They had not gone half a dozen steps before one of the trailing soldiers called out to Karn.

“What about this one, sir?”

Riverwind and Catchflea looked back. Di An still lingered by the wagon. She leaned over the trace pole, panting in exhaustion, but her eyes were bright upon them.

“Come here, girl,” said Karn. Di An moved quickly to him, but stopped just out of his reach. “Since you're responsible for bringing these outlanders here, you must face Her Highness's judgment.”

Di An paled. “It was a mistake, noble warrior! I-I did not bring them here! They chased me-”

“Don't talk back, digger. Get over there.” He gestured to Riverwind. “And don't lag!” Karn barked.

Karn and Vvelz moved away. The soldiers prodded the plainsmen and Di An into motion.

Riverwind touched the elf girl's shoulder. She was trembling violently. “Who is this 'Highness'?” he said in a low voice.

She raised large, terror-filled eyes to him. “Li El, First Light of Hest. A terrible mistress! She will have my head!”

“Not with us here,” Catchflea said soothingly. “After all, Riverwind is experienced at saving your head.”

Di An lowered her eyes. “Thank you, giant.”

He lifted her pointed chin until their eyes met once more. “Riverwind is my name.”

“Why was Karn trying to shorten you?” asked Catchflea. “What was your crime?”

“Warriors do not need a crime to slay diggers,” she said grimly. “But what I did was disobey the oldest law in Hest, not to go to the Empty World above.”

Riverwind asked, “Why did you?”

Di An glanced at Karn and Vvelz. They were involved in their own conversation ahead. The soldiers lagged behind several paces. Softly, she said, “It is what I do. I am a barren child, so my life is of no value. I am sent up the slow passage to the Empty World to find things we do not have in Hest.”

The light of recognition dawned on Riverwind. “I see. So all the ordinary goods in that chamber-wood, leather, cloth-you collected because you don't have such things underground?”

“I did not collect them all. There are other barren children.”

“If it is forbidden to go above, then who sent you?” Catchflea asked.

Before she could reply, Vvelz spoke. “See, giants, the foundries and workshops that produce all the marvels you see in Vartoom,” he said proudly.

The left side of the avenue was lined with low, oval doors and round windows, the sills of which were stained with soot. Inside, sparks danced and fire flared as diggers toiled over crucibles of molten metal. Vvelz gave leave for the humans to have a closer look. Riverwind and Catchflea hunched down and peered in an open window.

It was stiflingly hot inside. Against a background of flickering flames and acrid smoke, dim figures moved with the stiff motions of clockwork puppets. A bar of red-hot metal was drawn from a furnace by two elves with tongs. A gang of four diggers fell to beating it with hammers. Fire splashed around the cramped room like errant raindrops.

Catchflea backed away quickly. His face was red and sweat had trickled into his beard. “By the gods, I'm baked!” he exclaimed.

Riverwind blotted his face with his leather wristbands. “Not even the dwarf smiths of Thorbardin live and work in such an inferno.”

Vvelz entwined his fingers and regarded them beneficently. “Here in Hest we wrest the finest metals from the ground. We make everything we require in these foundries.”

Ramps and stairs of stone led from the Avenue of Foundries, as Vvelz called it, to the next, higher terrace, the Avenue of Artificers. The diggers were just as numerous here, but instead of smoke and fire, the street resounded with hammer strikes and the clatter of machinery. Again, the sorcerer bade the Que-Shu men look in any window. They saw elves making chain, drawing wire, and hammering bronze and copper into thin plates.

“Do you notice,” Catchflea said in the barest whisper, “there are few children about?”

“There's Di An.”

“She's no child, whatever she says. I mean little ones.”

Riverwind knew the old soothsayer was right. He asked Vvelz about the lack of children.

“There have not been many children born these past years,” the sorcerer said thoughtfully. “I believe it's due to-”

“Mind your tongue,” Karn said, tersely. “Her Highness will tell the outlanders what she wants them to know.”

The third terrace was the Avenue of Weavers. There, fine wire was woven into copper or tin “cloth.” By brushing on certain chemicals, the metal cloth could be colored. Riverwind saw mounds of black-dyed copper, the universal wear of the diggers.

Soldiers became more numerous as they ascended the city levels. The common soldiers showed great deference to the officers. Karn was evidently a high personage, as ranks parted for him and armed elves stood at attention while he passed.

The sixth terrace was called the Place of Swords. Here there were no diggers at all, only soldiers in bright steel or burnished brass. Vvelz explained that the differences they saw in armor and helmets was due to the different regiments in the army, or Host.

“I don't like this,” Riverwind muttered. “All these swords, and us with only our bare hands.”

“Be easy, tall man. There's no obvious threat yet,” said Catchflea.

'Tell that to Di An.”

The girl was trembling so badly now that Riverwind had to brace her with his arm. Vvelz and Karn led the little band to the center of the street of the sixth terrace. There, guards with drawn swords stood on each side of a monumental gate, its supporting columns made from naturally formed, gigantic quartz crystals. They raised their short-bladed swords in salute as Karn approached.