“Inform Her Highness that I have returned, with prisoners,” Karn announced.

“Guests,” Vvelz corrected.

Karn glared. “We shall see.”

One guard departed with Karn's message. He returned a few minutes later with a single-word answer: “Come.”

“I am afraid!” Di An declared, trying to pull back.

Catchflea ruffled her short, stiff hair with one hand. “The gods are merciful,” he said, looking down into her frightened eyes.

“So men say,” Riverwind said. “I hope it's true.”

Through the gate was a long colonnade of quartz crystals, open to the air. Honor guards lined the way, their closed visors embossed to resemble the faces of lions. The elves' metal shoes clanked loudly on the brilliant mosaic floor, which was made up of millions of tiny garnets, peridots, and amethysts. A second gate, twenty feet tall and made of riveted iron plates, swung inward as they came near.

Within, the palace was dim, as a heavy vaulted stone ceiling blotted out the brazen “sun.” Statues of Hestite warriors filled the entry hall, all larger than life and wearing complete suits of armor. Each statue bore the name of a dead warrior: Ro Drest, Teln the Great, Karz the Terrible, Ro Welx. All looked stern and soldierly. None looked sympathetic.

The entry hall ended with a vaulted passage that led into the next hall. A blazing hearth, ten feet in diameter, dominated the far end of the room. More curious were the scores of blue globes mounted on carved stone pedestals on each side of the walkway. The tallest pedestals were nearer the walls, the shortest close to the center path. The display was solemn and arresting.

“What are these things?” Riverwind said. “I thought they were lamps.”

“Perhaps they are, and this is some kind of shrine,” Catchflea said. Di An was too frightened to say anything.

“What are you mumbling about there?” Karn asked.

“These globes, they are lamps, yes?”

Karn laughed unpleasantly. “This is just a collection of old relics,” he said. He laughed scornfully.

Vvelz frowned. “They are lights indeed,” he remarked, not looking at Karn. “Very old, some of them.”

“Why are some dark?” asked the plainsman.

The sorcerer's gaze slanted at him. “In time, all lights go out,” was all he said.

At the hearth Riverwind noticed that, while the fire blazed as high as his chest, it did not crackle, spark, or hiss like all the fires he'd ever seen. Moving closer still, he discovered it gave off no heat. In the midst of the flames were bright, glowing piles of coals.

“What sort of fire burns without heat or smoke?” Riverwind queried.

“This is the Hall of Light,” Vvelz said. “The sorcerers of Hest created this magic fire centuries ago. In all that time it has not diminished.”

“What does it burn?” Catchflea wondered aloud.

“I do not know,” Vvelz confessed. “The parchments upon which the secret was written decayed long ago. Only the fire remains, silent and cold.” An expression like sadness or pain passed quickly over his face, vanishing when Karn called after them.

“Come along,” the soldier said impatiently. “Her Highness awaits.”

They circled the hearth, and behind it was another huge door. Lion-faced guards opened the door for them. The room beyond was circular, thirty paces wide, and the ceiling was domed. The surface of the dome was a vast mosaic, showing a heroic figure leading a haggard group of elves from a shattered town to a hole in the ground.

“Karn? Is that you? Come forward.” It was a light voice, female, that came from no certain direction, yet filled the domed room. Karn replied with great courtesy, and preceded the others into the room.

They entered to the sound of chimes and splashing water. Neither chimes nor water was visible. A delicate aroma drifted in the air, not like flowers exactly, more like the freshness that sunlight imparted to morning air. The center of the room was screened from view by a circular wall of golden drapes, hanging from linked brass posts. Riverwind could just see over the top of the curtains. Something glittering and golden moved inside the screened area.

Karn drew aside a drape. Vvelz, Riverwind, Catchflea, and Di An entered. The elf girl immediately threw herself on the polished floor, face pressed against the cold mosaic. Riverwind looked straight at the figure before them, but it took him a few seconds to realize what he was seeing.

Seated on a sculpted stone couch was a beautiful elven woman. Her milk-white face was framed by a golden hood that fell to her shoulders, covering her hair. The hood was cut out to reveal her ears, which were high and tapering. Gold beads of decreasing size studded the shell of each ear. Her lips were painted deep red. The rest of her figure was lost in the elaborate folds of her golden garment, a loose clerical robe woven of hair-thin gold wire.

Karn dropped to one knee. “Gracious Highness,” he said with verve, “I have brought you these prisoners, whom I captured deep in the southern caves.”

“Lost foreigners,” Vvelz said smoothly. “Innocent travelers, who perchance fell into your realm, Li El.”

Absolutely emotionless eyes passed over the Que-Shu men. “Which is it, then? Intruders or victims?” Karn opened his mouth to give an opinion, but Li El transfixed him with a single upraised finger. Her eyes fastened on Riverwind. “Speak, giant. You alone.”

Riverwind swallowed and found it unexpectedly difficult to make a sound. Was it fear, or was it the beauty of that unwavering gaze?

“Your Highness,” he began, “I am Riverwind, son of Wanderer, and this is my friend, Catchflea. It is entirely a trick of fate that we are here now.”

Li El leaned back on her couch. The smell of a sunlit morning intensified. She said, “Who tricked you then?”

“We were camping in the mountains when we were robbed in the night. Hearing a thief, we gave chase, then fell down a deep shaft. Some unseen hand supported us, and we arrived in your domain, unharmed by the fall.”

Li El slowly clenched a hand into a fist. “Karn, did you locate this shaft?” she said with icy precision.

“No, my lady-”

“Why not?”

The warrior's face paled inside his helmet. “I-we- caught this thief-” He indicated the cringing Di An with his foot. “-and shortly thereafter captured these outland giants. I thought it best to return to you at once.”

The queen of Hest stood abruptly. All the pleasant sensations in the dome were gone: the chimes and splashing water were silent. “The shaft, foolish Karn, is more important than a digger girl or a pair of giant barbarians. All the old slow passages were supposed to have been closed a half-century ago. How is it this one escaped our notice?” She never raised her voice above a conversational level, but Karn winced under Li El's questioning like a slave under a lash.

“I will return at once, Highness! With twenty warriors, I will find this cursed shaft, and-”

“You will do nothing until I give you leave,” Li El declared. The short hairs on the back of Riverwind's neck prickled, and a new aroma reached his nose-incense, sharp and spicy. The sounds and smells, he deduced, must be controlled by Li El's magic.

To Vvelz, the queen said, “What do you know of this affair, brother?”

Vvelz waved a hand carelessly. “Not very much. I was waiting for the return of Karn's troops, as you ordered, when I snagged this digger running out of the tunnel. She babbled some wild tale about giants. When Karn entered the upper cavern, I met him and put the amulets on the out-landers so they could converse and understand us.”

“Very convenient, that,” Karn muttered.

“As for the shaft, as you said, dear sister, all of them were closed by your edict fifty years ago.”

Li El sat down in a crush of crinkling gold cloth. “Were they? I wonder.”

“No one could create a new one,” Vvelz remarked. “No one but you.”