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."A storm came, and we saw the cave.We hoped it would give shelter—we didn't know we'd find someone living here.""No? You weren't looking for the hidden city of Al Qahera or its people? But only those of elf blood could hope to locate Al Qahera—it is an ancient enchantment we preserve.""I am an elf, that's true, but I hail from the north, from." she almost said Stardeep, but finally said, "from the Yuirwood forest.I am not of the Al Qaheran clan.Elves hidden in the Yuirwood call themselves 'people of the star.' But I am not really part of their society any longer, either.I am a traveler.""You've traveled far, and to one of the most inhospitable places in the world.I see no children with you, just a mountain carver.Are you carrying contraband?""I don't understand.""Sometimes oathless smugglers make haddrum runs between Huorm and the oasis towns.""I don't know what haddrum is, but, no, we're not carrying dangerous substances, if that's what you're implying.""Then what?""It's a long story.I'd be happy to tell you if you let us in.My friend here is sick.""Mmmm, hmm, yes, so I see," said the voice, and paused."Very well.I'm a good judge of character, so I tell my sons and daughters." The sound of a bolt being drawn back momentarily drowned out the sound of the blowing sand."Be welcome in Al Qahera! Bring with you no deceit, and you shall find none here."The great carved door swung wide, and standing in its gap was an elf wearing a long, heavy gown of spun white cloth, over which he wore a larger, looser garment stitched with intricate script Kiril didn't recognize.His face, while certainly that of an elf, was strangely weathered.Despite his fey blood, his skin marked him as one who'd spent a lifetime in the sun."My name," said the man, "is Essam.Enter." He moved to the side and gestured inward.Behind him Kiril saw the heart of the dervish community of Al Qahera.The entrance, wide as it was, opened onto a far larger and deeper plaza, enclosed on all sides by stone balconies, galleries, and square tunnels leading to hidden rooms.The entire plaza was brilliantly lit by hundreds of clove oil lanterns.Great bronze plaques with calligraphic script hung from every surface that didn't sport a tapestry of intricate weave.A beautiful mosaic design was laid out in tiles that paved the entire floor of the plaza.A high-walled stone well protruded from the plaza's center.From where she stood at the entrance, Kiril scented the cool tang of deep water.People moved everywhere—men, women, and children.All were elves, and all were weathered like Essam.The adults wore flowing, colorful gowns, but the children wore loose pants and simple tunics.One edge of the wide plaza, which was well over a hundred paces in diameter, hosted a bazaar with several semipermanent stands.The elves of Al Qahera were thickly gathered there.But the appearance of strangers had apparently distracted the Qaherans from the merits of their transactions.Everyone in the subterranean, lantern-lit plaza looked in her direction.Essam clapped his hands and yelled, "Call the healer—we have visitors, and one is ill.Come! Do not stare, my friends—we shall have time to make their acquaintance when our visitors have rested and washed away the burdens of their journey." Essam paused and smiled openly at Kiril."Perhaps we might hope for a story from our guests, describing how they found themselves on our porch, running before a gowaan storm."Several children rushed forward, curious, along with a young elf woman in a blue caftan, hardly older than a child herself.She nodded at Kiril and said, "My name is Fadheela.You and your friend can stay in our guestroom.My father is a healer."Kiril blinked, taking in the comfort of the round chamber.A covering stitched with desert stars hung from the ceiling.Soft sheepskin lay across the floor.A fire in a tiny side alcove burned away the subterranean chill.No smoke lingered in the room—the fireplace was apparently well vented.Kiril wondered briefly how fresh air was drawn in, then shrugged.The elves of Al Qahera had obviously worked it out.* * * * *"I do feel much better, Kiril," said Thormud in an irritated tone.The dwarf sat propped up on the small bed, his back against a wooden headboard carved with still more elaborate designs."I'd like to go down to the plaza tonight to talk with the Qaherans.""You heard Fadheela's father.You've caught some sort of dolor, and you need bed rest if you want to shake it off.""But.""Tonight, you sleep."The geomancer sighed."Perhaps that would be best.I am strangely fatigued."Kiril didn't tell the dwarf the entire diagnosis.Fadheela's father felt that the dwarf might be suffering from some sort of magical curse.It was a potential explanation for Thormud's lack of response to the healer's spell of purification."Damn right, it's for the best.Don't worry.I'll tell you everything that happens.Maybe they know something about what we're looking for.Maybe they've seen something strange out in the desert."The dwarf nodded but was already blinking his eyes.He fell asleep a moment later.Kiril pulled up his blanket, strapped Angul to her belt, and departed the small chamber.Fadheela waited for her in the foyer of the apartment, one of many similar apartments on both sides, above, and below.The best apartments faced the central plaza of Al Qahera, and as a healer, Fadheela's father enjoyed some privilege."How is your friend?" Fadheela asked."Better.He's asleep.Maybe I'll take him something to eat later.""Good—that sounds good!" Fadheela clapped happily, then reached forward to grasp one of Kiril's hands.The swordswoman, out of surprise, allowed the desert elf to complete the motion without losing a limb.Fadheela said, "Come with me, then.Everyone's down in the plaza.You'll just love meeting everyone, I promise!" The girl pulled, and Kiril consciously forced herself not to resist the tug out of the apartment
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