"You know," said Sylvie slowly, "I was thinking earlier that there was something odd about the horizon, where the view was clear through the trees. The earth and sky fade together in a blur, with the land reaching slightly up into the sky. Then it hit me that I was seeing the curvature of the inside of the crystal sphere."

Sylvie suddenly turned around to face both Aelfred and Teldin. "Did either of you think about how big this place is?" she asked. "Seriously, I mean. Do you know how huge this place really is?"

"Looked damn big to me," Aelfred said, "but Dyffed told me a few weeks ago in the phlogiston that Herdspace wasn't the biggest crystal sphere there was."

"That doesn't matter," Sylvie said, brushing her long silver hair back over her pointed ears. "This crystal sphere could be half the size of any major one, but it would still have more living space inside it than a million planets. Think about it: We're living on the inside of a crystal sphere, which is maybe a million times bigger than a world. Do you see what I'm saying?"

Teldin thought about it and shivered slightly. The idea was almost too crazy to believe. He realized that he could not picture how truly big a single world was, much less imagine the size of the inside of a crystal sphere. "Then what's beyond the atmosphere?" he said, pointing up at the sky.

Sylvie looked up for a moment, shading her eyes and squinting against the glare. "There could be some planets orbiting the sun, but I don't see any of them. Dyffed said there weren't any there, anyway. Maybe the air envelope on the inside of this sphere extends all the way up to the sun, though- blue sky everywhere you go, and clouds a thousand miles high. I don't know."

Teldin saw Sylvie frown as she stared straight up. "That's odd," she whispered. "Is the sun getting darker?"

Teldin and Aelfred immediately leaned back and looked up. Teldin thought he had noticed a slight dimming in the light, but he had put it down as a visual quirk.

"Damn," said Aelfred. "It is getting darker. I can tell now. Gods of Toril, what's going on here?"

Teldin heard a sudden increase in the volume of the gnomes' distant conversation. Several were calling to each other about the sun going out. They sounded quite panicked. He hardly blamed them.

"Maybe we'd better get back to the ship," said Aelfred, rising to his feet, his cup forgotten on the ground. "We can ask our multilegged friends if this is natural and harmless, or if we're supposed to scream now."

"Aelfred," said Sylvie. "If the sun is-"

"You no fear," said a chirping, singsong voice behind them. They turned in surprise to see a tall rastipede approaching, its eight legs thumping softly through the undergrowth. Teldin couldn't tell if it was the leader he had spoken with earlier. They all looked so much alike.

"Sun is healthy," said the insect-centaur. "Sun have not much light now. World is dark soon. World you have no night? You fear dark?"

"You mean the sun is going out?" Teldin asked in amazement. His nose twitched, but he fought the urge to sneeze. "We are not afraid of the night, but we thought there was no night here because the sun couldn't set."

"I not listen you true," said the rastipede, twisting its head slightly. "You say 'set'? What is 'set'?"

Teldin started to explain what a sunset was, but the urge to sneeze overcame him too rapidly. He backed away, trying not to fall over, as he sneezed violently two dozen times in a row. Sylvie abruptly took over for him, quickly explaining to the rastipede the rudiments of day and night on spherical worlds. The rastipede appeared to be even more confused as she spoke, asking a stream of strange questions, until Sylvie finally gave up.

"It's no use," she said. "They've lived here for so many generations that they don't remember what it's like to live on a regular planet. They've never seen their sun set. The sun just goes out, and it gets dark. The sun goes back on again eventually, and that's dawn here." She looked up at the rapidly darkening star. Teldin looked up, too, and found that he could now see the sun's broad, reddened disk clearly. It was featureless and smooth, seemingly perfect.

Aelfred dropped his gaze. "I'm in serious need of a drink. If there's anything left of that little keg of ale we pulled off the ship, let's drain it and get some sleep. This place has been very entertaining, but I've almost lost all sense of time. And you," he said, nudging Sylvie again, "you need your beauty est. You've worked too hard. I'm your captain, and I'm ordering you to turn yourself in for a nap."

"Will you tuck me in?" Sylvie asked straight-faced, then glanced at Teldin and colored, biting her lip.

Aelfred saw her expression and laughed, putting his arm around her. "Sure, I'll tuck you in," he said. "Excuse us, Teldin. I've got some official duties to perform."

Sylvie mumbled something in embarrassment as Aelfred led her away to the ship. Teldin managed to smile in spite of himself, then sneezed and sneezed until he felt he would never stop. When he finally finished, exhausted, he looked up and noticed that the rastipede was gone, too.

Grandfather, he thought to himself as the red sun went out overhead, the things you've missed. If I die from this wretched allergy and find you by Paladine's side, I'm going to tell you some tales that will lay you out all over again.

*****

Nightfall could not have come soon enough for the ship's tired crew. Dyffed and the other gnomes, once they had gotten used to the phenomenon, watched the sun go out until the gnomes were nearly incapacitated from stiff necks. During the sun's fade-out, the gnomes built a bonfire and talked with the rastipedes until exhaustion overcame the former and they fell asleep across the lakeshore in every possible spot. The insect folk stayed up, moving to and fro among the sleeping travelers and keeping guard over them.

Teldin watched it all, unable to sleep because of his allergy. The rastipedes were changing their guard in shifts, he noticed; a few would leave together just as other rastipedes would approach the informal encampment. He decided the new creatures were fresh from the underground home that Aelfred had spoken of. It was impossible to tell, really, but as a theory it wasn't a bad one. If they were communicating by smell, as Aelfred had suggested earlier, then they were "talking" up a storm.

Teldin found Gaye asleep under a tree, wrapped in a light blanket that Teldin recognized in the firelight as having come from his cabin aboard the ship. The night air was warm enough that he didn't think she really needed it, but he wasn't in the mood to bother her about it. After making sure she was in good shape, he got up and continued his slow walk around the lakeshore, sniffing and sneezing and wishing, just a little bit, that he could cut off his nose.

His feet finally brought him to the numerous poles and ropes strung from the lakeshore to a hastily built framework about a hundred feet inland, on which the Perilous Halibut rested about a man's height off the ground. The ship's tail fin had been straightened, the oars and propeller drive had been repaired with the rastipedes astounding carpentry skills, and the two large mounds of active fur tied on long rope tethers to a nearby tree attested to the complete recovery of the giant hamsters. Teldin listened to the hamsters' rumbling reeep! reeep! sounds, then turned away, shaking his head and smiling despite his sinus agony.

It was then that Teldin heard a faint, deep voice from the other side of the ship. He stopped and listened, trying to make out the words, but the noise from the obviously nocturnal giant hamsters drowned it out. He hesitated for a moment, then walked toward the source of the talking as quietly as he could.