"Worse luck. Been talking to the guvnor, had she?"

"Yes, I think so. I didn't say much. I didn't want to get her started. I'd be there still. Something about a human priest? I-What in Orn's name was that?"

"Thunder." Paithan glanced up into the thick vegetation through which it was impossible to see the sky. "Storm must be coming. Drat. That means they'll cancel the boating."

"Nonsense. It's far too early. Besides, I felt the ground tremble. Didn't you?"

"Maybe it's Callie, stalking me." Paithan removed the flower from his buttonhole and began playfully tearing it up, tossing the petals in his sister's lap.

"I'm so glad you find this amusing, Pait. Wait until she cuts your allowance. What is this about a human priest, anyway?"

Paithan settled himself on the bench, his eyes on the flower he was decapitating, his youthful face unusually serious. "When I came back from that last trip, Thea, I was shocked to see the change in Father. You and Callie don't notice. You're around him all the time. But ... he looked so ... I don't know ... gray, I guess. And woebegone."

Aleatha sighed. "You caught him in one of his more lucid moments."

"Yes, and those damn rockets of his aren't clearing the treetops, let alone coming close to the stars. He was going on and on about Mother ... and you know how that is!"

"Yes. I know how that is." Aleatha gathered the flower petals in her lap, unconsciously forming them into a miniature grave.

"I wanted to cheer him up, so I said the first jolly thing that popped into my mind. 'Why not send for a human priest?' I said. They know an awfully lot about the stars, 'cause that's where they think they come from. Claim that the stars are really cities and all that rot. Well"-Paithan appeared modestly pleased with himself-"it perked the old boy right up. I hadn't seen him so excited since the day his rocket flew into the city and blew up the garbage dump."

"It's all very well for you, Pait!" Aleatha irritably scattered her flowers to the wind. "You get to go off on another one of your trips. But Callie and I will have to live with the brute! That lecherous old astrologer of Father's is bad enough without this."

"I'm sorry, Thea. I really didn't think." Paithan sounded and felt truly ashamed. The one bright spark that burned in all of Quindiniars was their love and affection for each other-an affection that, unfortunately, did not extend to the rest of the world.

Reaching out, Paithan took his sister's hand in his and squeezed it. "Besides, no human priest will ever come. I know them, you see and-"

The moss bed rose up suddenly beneath their feet and then settled back down. The bench on which they were sitting shook and shivered, a pronounced rippling effect marred the smooth and placid surface of the lake. A rumbling sound like thunder, which came from below rather than above, accompanied the ground's shudder.

"That wasn't a storm," said Aleatha, looking about in alarm.

Shouts and screams could be heard in the distance.

Paithan rose to his feet, his expression suddenly grave. "I think, Thea, that we had better move back to the house." He gave his hand to his sister. Aleatha moved with calm alacrity, gathering her flowing skirts around her in unruffled haste.

"What do you think it is?"

"I haven't the vaguest idea," Paithan answered, hurrying through the garden. "Ah, Durndrun! What's this? Some new form of party game?"

"I only wish it were!" The lord appeared considerably harried. "It's sent a big crack through the dining room wall and frightened Mother into hysterics."

The rumbling began again, this time stronger. The ground bucked and quivered. Paithan staggered back against a tree. Aleatha, pale but composed, clung to a hanging vine. Lord Durndrun toppled over, and was almost struck by a falling piece of statuary. The quake lasted for as long as a man might draw three deep breaths, then ceased. A strange smell wafted up from the moss-the smell of chill, dank dampness. The smell of darkness. The smell of something that lives in the darkness.

Paithan moved to help the lord to his feet.

"I think," said Durndrun in an undertone meant for Paithan's ears alone, "that we should arm ourselves."

"Yes," agreed Paithan, glancing askance at his sister and keeping his voice low. "I was about to suggest that myself."

Aleatha heard and understood. Fear tingled through her, a rather pleasant sensation. It was certainly adding interest to what she had expected to be an otherwise boring evening.

"If you gentlemen will excuse me," she said, adjusting the brim of her hat to best advantage, "I will go to the house and see if I may be of assistance to the dowager."

'Thank you, Mistress Quindiniar. I would appreciate it. How brave she is," Lord Durndrun added, watching Aleatha walking fearlessly alone toward the house. "Half the other women are shrieking and flinging themselves about and the other half have dropped over in a dead faint. Your sister is a remarkable woman!"

"Yes, isn't she," said Paithan, who saw that his sister was enjoying herself immensely. "What weapons have you got?"

Hastening toward the house, the lord glanced at the young elf running along beside him. "Quindiniar"-Durndrun edged nearer, took him by the arm-"you don't think this has anything to do with those rumors you told us of the other night. You know, the ones about ... er ... giants?"

Paithan appeared slightly shamefaced. "Did I mention giants? By Orn, that was strong wine you were serving that night, Durndrun!"

"Perhaps those rumors aren't rumors, after all," said Durndrun grimly.

Paithan considered the nature of the rumbling sounds, the smell of darkness. He shook his head. "I think we're going to wish we were facing giants, my lord. I'd enjoy a human bedtime story right about now."

The two arrived at the house, where they began going over the catalog of his lordship's armaments. Other male members of the party joined them, shouting and proclaiming and carrying on in an hysterical manner not much better than that of their women, to Paithan's mind. He was regarding them with a mixture of amusement and impatience when he became aware that they were all regarding him and they were extraordinarily serious.

"What do you think we should do?" asked Lord Durndrun.

"I-I-really-" Paithan stammered, looking around at the group of thirty members of the elven nobility in confusion. "I mean, I'm certain you-"

"Come, come, Quindiniar!" snapped Lord Durndrun. "You're the only one of us who's been in the outside world. You're the only one with experience in this sort of thing. We need a leader and you're it."

And it'something happens, you'll have me to blame for it, Paithan thought but didn't say, though a wry smile flitted across his lips.

The rumbling began again, strong enough this time to knock many of the elves to their knees. Screams and wails came from the women and children who had been herded into the house for safety. Paithan could hear crashing and breaking tree limbs in the jungle, the raucous cawing of startled birds.

"Look! Look at that! In the lake!" came a hoarse cry from one of the lords standing on the fringes of the crowd.

All turned and stared. The lake's waters were heaving and boiling and, out of the middle, snaking upward, could be seen the shining scales of an enormous green body. A portion of the body surfaced, then slithered under.

"Ah, I thought so," murmured Paithan.

"A dragon!" cried Lord Durndrun. He clutched at the young elf. "My god, Quindiniar! What do we do?"

"I think," said Paithan with a smile, "that we should all go inside and have what will probably be our last drink."

CHAPTER 5.

EQUILAN, LAKE ENTHIAL.

ALEATHA WAS IMMEDIATELY SORRY SHE'D JOINED THE WOMEN. FEAR IS A contagious disease and the parlor stank of it. The men were probably every bit as frightened as the women but they were maintaining a bold front-if not for themselves, at least for each other. The women were not only able to indulge their terror, they were expected to. Even fear, however, has socially defined limits.

The dowager-Lord Durndrun's mother and reigning mistress of the house since her son was not yet married-had the priority on hysteria. She was the eldest, the highest in status, and it was her house. No one else present, therefore, had the right to be as panic-stricken as the dowager. (A mere duke's wife, who had fainted in a corner, was being ostracized.) The dowager lay prostrate on a couch, her maid weeping at her side and applying various restoratives-bathing the dowager's temples in lavender water, dabbing tincture of rose on the dowager's ample bosom, which was heaving and fluttering as she sought vainly to catch her breath.

"Oh ... oh ... oh!" she gasped, clutching her heart.

The various wives of the guests hovered about her, wringing their hands, occasionally grasping each other with stifled sobs. Their fear was inspirational to their children, who had previously been mildly curious, but who were now wailing in concert and getting under everyone's feet.

"Oh ... oh ... oh!" wheezed the dowager, turning slightly blue.

"Slap her," suggested Aleatha coolly.

The maid seemed tempted, but the wives managed to emerge from their panic long enough to look shocked. Aleatha, shrugging, turned away and walked toward the tall windows that doubled as doors and opened out onto the spacious porch overlooking the lake. Behind her, the dowager's spasms appeared to be easing. Perhaps she had heard Aleatha's suggestion and seen the twitching hand of her maid.

"There's been no sound in the last few minutes," gasped an earl's wife. "Perhaps it's over."

An uneasy silence met the comment. It wasn't over. Aleatha knew it and every woman in the room knew it. For the moment, it was quiet, but it was a heavy, horrible quiet that made Aleatha long for the dowager's wailing. The women shrank together, the children whimpered.

The rumbling struck again. The house shook alarmingly. Chairs skittered across the floor, small ornaments fell off tables and crashed on impact. Those who could, hung onto something; those who couldn't, stumbled and fell. From her vantage point at the window, Aleatha saw the green, scaly body rise up from the lake.

Fortunately, none of the women in the room behind her noticed the creature. Aleatha bit her lips to keep from crying out. Then it was gone-so swiftly that she wondered it'she had seen something real or something bred of her fear.

The rumbling ceased. The men were running toward the house, her brother in the lead. Aleatha flung open the doors and dashed down the broad staircase.

"Paithan! What was it?" She caught hold of the sleeve of his coat.

"A dragon, I'm afraid, Thea," answered her brother.

"What will happen to us?"

Paithan considered. "We'll all die, I should imagine."

"It's not fair!" Aleatha raved, stamping her foot.

"No, I suppose not." Paithan considered this a rather odd view of the desperate situation, but he patted his sister's hand soothingly. "Look, Thea, you're not going to go off like those others in there, are you? Hysteria's not becoming."

Aleatha put her hands to her cheeks, felt her skin flushed and hot. He's right, she thought. I must look a fright. Drawing a deep breath, she forced herself to relax, smoothed her hair, and rearranged the disheveled folds of her dress. The surging blood drained from her cheeks.

"What should we do?" she asked in a steady voice.

"We're going to arm ourselves. Orn knows it's hopeless, but at least we can hold the monster off for a short time."

"What about the queen's guards?"

Across the lake, the palace regiment could be seen turning out, the men dashing to their posts.

"They're guarding Her Majesty, Thea. They can't leave the palace. Here's an idea, you take the other women and the children down to the cellar-"

"No! I won't die like a rat in a hole!"

Paithan looked at his sister closely, measuring her courage. "Aleatha, there is something you can do. Someone has to go into the city and alert the army. We can't spare any of the men, and none of the other women here are fit to travel. It'll be dangerous. The fastest way is the carriage and if this beast gets past us-"

Aleatha envisioned clearly the dragon's huge head rising up, thrashing about, snapping the cables that held the carriage high above the ground. She pictured the plummeting fall... .

She pictured herself locked up in a dark, stuffy cellar with the dowager.

"I'll go." Aleatha gathered up her skirts.

"Wait, Thea! Listen. Don't try to go down into the city proper. You'd get lost. Make for the guard post on the var side. The carriages'll take you partway and then you'll have to walk, but you can see it from the first junction. It's a lookout built in the branches of a karabeth tree. Tell them-"

"Paithan!" Lord Durndrun came running out of the house, railbow and quiver in hand. He pointed. "Who the devil is that walking around down there by the lake? Didn't we bring everyone up here with us?"

"I thought so." Paithan stared, squinting. The sunlight off the water was blinding, it was difficult to see. Yet, sure enough, he could make out a figure moving about down by the water's edge. "Hand me that railbow. I'll go. We could have easily lost someone in the confusion."

"Down ... down there ... with the dragon?" The lord stared at Paithan in amazement.

Much as he did everything else in his life, Paithan had volunteered without thinking. But before he could announce that he'd suddenly remembered a previous engagement, Lord Durndrun was pressing the bow in the young elf's hands and murmuring something about a medal of valor. Posthumous, no doubt.

"Paithan!" Aleatha caught hold of him.

The elf took his sister's hand in his, squeezed it, then transferred it to Lord Durndrun's. "Aleatha has offered to go and bring the Shadowguard [12] to our rescue."

"Brave heart!" murmured Lord Durndrun, kissing the hand that was cold as ice. "Brave soul." He gazed at Aleatha in fervent admiration.

"Not braver than those of you staying behind, My Lord. I feel like I'm running away." Aleatha drew a deep breath, gave her brother a cool glance. "Take care of yourself, Pait."

"You, too, Thea,"

Arming himself, Paithan headed down toward the lake at a run.

Aleatha watched him go, a horrible, smothering feeling in her breast-a feeling she had experienced once before, the night her mother died.

"Mistress Aleatha, let me escort you." Lord Durndrun kept hold of her hand.

"No, My Lord. That's nonsense!" Aleatha answered sharply. Her stomach twisted, bowels clenched. Why had Paithan gone? Why had he left her? She wanted only to escape from this horrid place. "You're needed here."

"Aleatha! You are so brave, so beautiful!" Lord Durndrun clasped her close, his arms around her waist, his Hps on her hand. "If, by some miracle, we escape this monster, I want you to marry me!"

Aleatha started, jolted from her fear. Lord Durndrun was one of the highest ranking elves at court, one of the wealthiest elves in Equilan. He had always been polite to her, but cool and withdrawn. Paithan had been kind enough to inform her that the lord thought her "too wild, her behavior improper." Apparently, he had changed his mind.

"My Lord! Please, I must go!" Aleatha struggled, not very hard, to break the grip of the arm around her waist.

"I know. I will not stop your courageous act! Promise me you'll be mine, if we survive."

Aleatha ceased her struggles, shyly lowered the purple eyes. "These are dreadful circumstances, My Lord. We are not ourselves. Should we survive, I could not hold your lordship to such a promise. But"-she drew nearer him, whispering-"I do promise your lordship that I will listen if you want to ask the question again."

Breaking free, Aleatha sank in a low courtesy, turned and ran swiftly, gracefully across the moss lawn toward the carriage house. She knew he was following her with his eyes.

I have him. I will be Lady Durndrun-supplanting the dowager as first handmaiden to the queen.