Riverwind threw the useless hilt at the lizard man and dropped through the hole. He meant to grab a rung on his way down. His left hand missed, his right caught, and he jerked painfully to a stop ten feet below the opening. A burning torch whizzed by him, and a crossbow bolt flickered into the darkness. Riverwind scrambled to get his feet on a rung to relieve the pain and pressure on his right arm. As he got one foot in place, the crude ladder finally gave way, then crumpled, taking Riverwind with it.

Cool water trickled on his face. Riverwind saw Catchflea and Di An. The girl poured water in her palm and applied it to his face. He tried to sit up, and pain raced through his chest and shoulder. He fell back.

“Lie still,” Catchflea said. “You had quite a fall.”

Riverwind looked around. They were back in the lower cave, among the milky limestone concretions.

“The goblins have been looking for us,” Catchflea said. “They dropped torches through the hole and shot arrows at random, but they haven't put down their own ladder yet.”

“They can't know how many of us are down here,” Riverwind said. “But they'll come eventually.”

“What was that scaly thing?” asked Di An. Her thin, angular face was scratched. So were her hands.

“I don't know, but he's not friendly. Have you ever heard or seen his like, old man?”

“No, never.”

Di An let a few droplets fall from her palm to Riverwind's lips. “Shall we go back?” she asked.

“Where? To Hest? I think not.”

Catchflea thought for a moment and said, “The gully dwarves, they come down here. Perhaps we could parley with them, yes? They would certainly have food and water. If we approach them the right way, they might help us get around the goblins.”

“They are stupid and ugly and smell bad,” Di An said. “It is foolish.”

“They're basically good folk,” Riverwind countered. “I've dealt with them before. They are simple, but Aghar have been derided for so long that they understand what it means to starve and suffer. I think they'll help us.”

Di An was silent. Finally, her gaze came to rest on River-wind. “This is a mistake,” she said. “But I agree to try it your way.” She stood and walked away, into the shadows.

Riverwind sighed and lay back on the ground. “Old man, do you think this is the right thing to do?”

Catchflea didn't answer. He was staring after the elf girl. Riverwind repeated his question.

“What? Yes, tall man,” Catchflea replied. “I agree that it is our only choice.” He paused. “But I think perhaps you should speak to her.”

“And say what? I'm as frightened as she is.” Riverwind rubbed his abused ribs. “I only want to get back to my quest. It seems like years since I parted from Goldmoon.”

“Something more than fear is troubling her, my friend.” The old soothsayer hesitated a long moment. “I believe she is in love with you.”

“That's ridiculous! She's a child.”

“A child ten times your age,” Catchflea said gently. “Speak with her. I'll stand guard.” The old man walked slowly back to the hole in the cave ceiling.

Riverwind lay still for a few minutes. Di An in love with him? It couldn't be true. She had been acting strangely lately-rude, nay-saying. There was some other answer. She must be homesick. The gods knew he was.

Goldmoon, my beloved, he thought, how far away you seem now.

Di An was crouched in an especially dark corner of the cave, away from the torchlight. She was miserable and she didn't know why.

The trek from Hest had been arduous. She and Catchflea and Riverwind had faced many dangers. The warriors of the dreaded King Sithas. Hunger and thirst. The creeping death. She shuddered. She had watched Riverwind die. She had seen his face go white and still. It was worse than when he had been under Li El's enchantment. He had truly died. When he had at last taken air back into his lungs, Di An had felt a great rushing of joy. It was more than a gladness felt for a friend-she'd had many friends before among the scouts of Hest. This was something more.

“Di An?” Riverwind's voice carried through the cave. “Where are you?”

The elf girl heard the concern in his voice. She made herself stand and call out to him.

“I was getting worried,” he said. “I thought something might've happened to you.”

“Something has,” she blurted.

He took her hand in his own and the warmth of his body made her shiver. “You're freezing,” he said. “Let's move toward the light.” He led her to a rock by one of the torches and sat down, bringing their eyes more on a level.

'Tell me what is bothering you, little one.”

Di An jerked her hand from his. “I'm not a child, River-wind!” she exploded.

He was taken aback. “I know that, Di An. I'm sorry.” He looked closely at her. “You've been crying. What's wrong?”

Her struggle to hide her feelings was plain on her face. It was a battle she lost. “We have suffered through so much together,” she said, “yet you cannot wait to be rid of mel I see it in your face, tall man. You want nothing so much as to be on the surface again, free to return to your-people.” She turned away from him to hide her angry face.

Riverwind realized then that Catchflea was right. “Di An,” he began, “it's no secret that I ache to get on with my quest. I have to fulfil] it if I am to have the hand of the woman I love.” She stiffened when he said that. His voice softened. “You have been a fine companion and a friend. That need not end, ever.”

Her thin shoulders rose and fell with a musical clink from her copper mesh dress. “It is difficult,” she said, “never to fit in. Who am I? In Hest, I was a barren child. In Vartoom, I was Mors's eyes. Here in the tunnels and caves, I am Di An, the same as the old man and you. One of three.”

“You're still one of three,” Riverwind said gently.

“But soon to be left behind. What am I to do on the surface? Where shall I go?”

Riverwind had wondered about those same questions himself.

“I'll be honest with you,” he said slowly. “It won't be easy for you. But you can become anything you can make of yourself. No one on the surface cares if you're a barren child or a digger. Be a traveler, a trader, anything you want. Be free, Di An. Free.” He said the word in her language. “Varin”

He reached out and gathered her into his arms. She buried her head against his chest and wept a bit. Riverwind sorrowed that she was so unhappy because of him. He knew that her future would not be an easy one.

They took turns watching the hole, but nothing happened for many hours. Riverwind was sitting wedged between two limestone boulders, sipping water from his canteen, when he heard voices from above. Seconds later, a stumpy figure appeared in the hole. It was a gully dwarf. A rope was tied around his thick waist, and someone was lowering him through the hole.

“Make slow!” the Aghar said. He promptly dropped almost six feet. “Slow, dungheads! Slow! Turn rope!” The rope twisted, rotating the little fellow in a circle. He had mouse-colored hair, liberally coated with soot. His stubby fingers were blackened, too. “Make lower,” he said, and he was lowered to the cave floor.

“Torch!” A flaming brand almost hit him on the head.

“Good aim, dunghead!” The gully dwarf picked up the brand and started walking. He didn't bother untying the rope from his waist.

“Any monsters down here?” he called. “Show yourself to Brud. No eat Brud. Taste bad, phooey.” The dwarf waved the torch around. Riverwind crouched lower.