After a brief exchange between father and son concerning the ravages of the potato grub, an exchange which

Belzorspeaking through Judith-appeared to find somewhat tedious, Judith brought the subject back to the hidden

wealth.

"I have told Belzor where to find the money," said Judith, speaking for the late farmer. "I will not reveal this aloud,

lest some dishonest person take advantage of the knowledge while you are away from home. Return tomorrow with

an offering for the temple and the information will be imparted to you."

The farmer ducked his head several times, as grateful as if

Belzor had handed him a chest of steel coins on the spot. Then it was the turn of the bereaved young mother.

Recalling the forbidding expression on Judith's face, Raistlin tensed. He could not imagine that Belzor would

extract much of an offering from this poor woman. Her clothes were worn. Her shoes were clearly castoffs from

someone else, for they did not fit. A ragged shawl covered her thin shoulders. But she was clean, her hair was

neatly combed. She had once been pretty and would be pretty again, when time rounded off the sharp corners of

her bitter loss.

Judith's head rolled and lolled. When she spoke, it was in the high-pitched voice of a little child, a terrified

child.

"Mama! Mama! Where are you? Mama! I'm afraid! Help me, Mama! Why don't you come to me?"

The young woman shuddered and reached out her hands. "Mother is here, Mia, my pet! Mother is here! Don't

be frightened!"

"Mama! Mama! I can't see you! Mama, there are terrible creatures coming to get me! Spiders, Mama, and rats!

Mama! Help me!"

"Oh, my baby!" The young woman gave a heartrending cry and tried to rush forward into the arena. The priest

restrained her.

"Let me go to her! What is happening to her? Where is she?" the mother cried.

"Mama! Why don't you help me?"

"I will!" The mother wrung her hands, then clasped them together. "Tell me how!"

"The child's father is an elf, is he not?" Judith asked, speaking in her own voice, no longer that of a child.

"He-he is only part elven," the young woman faltered, startled andwary. "His great-grandfather was an elf.

Why? What does that matter?"

"Belzor does not look with favor upon the marriage of humans with persons of lesser races. Such marriages

are contrived, a plot of the elves, intended to weaken humanity so that we will eventually fall to elven

domination."

The audience murmured in approval. Many nodded their heads.

"Because of her elven blood," Judith continued remorselessly, "your child is cursed, and so she must live in

eternal darkness and torment!"

The wretched mother moaned and seemed near to collapsing. "What folly is this?" Sturm demanded in a low,

angry voice.

Several of his neighbors, overhearing, cast him baleful glances.

"Dangerous folly," said Raistlin and clasped his thin fingers around his friend's wrist. "Hush, Sturm! Say nothing.

Now is not the time."

"You and your husband are not wanted in Haven," Judith stated. "Leave at once, lest more harm befall you."

"But where will we go? What will we do? The land is all we have, and that is not much! And my child! What will

become of my poor child?"

Judith's voice softened. "Belzor takes pity on you, sister. Make a gift of your land to the temple, and Belzor might

be prevailed upon to bring your child from darkness into light."

Judith's head lowered to her chest. Her arms fell limp to her sides. Her eyes closed.

The shadowy form of the viper retreated until it blended in with the statue, then vanished.

Judith raised her head, looked around as if she had no idea where she was or what had happened. The High

Priest took hold of her arm, supported her. She gazed out upon the audience with a beatific smile.

The High Priest stepped forward. "The audience with Belzor is concluded."

The priests and priestesses picked up the baskets containing the charmed vipers. Forming into a procession, they