“These gullies are poor folk?” Di An asked.
“They usually live in squalor and are despised for it,” Catchflea said with sympathy. “A paradox of prejudice, yes? To confine a people to living in garbage heaps and ruins, and then hate them for being dirty and stupid.”
“We should be very careful entering that cavern,” River-wind said, staring up through the hole thoughtfully.
Di An asked, “Are the gullies so dangerous? They ran from the sight of you before.”
“They were surprised. But, no, they aren't so dangerous. What I'm worried about is what else we'll find once we leave the shelter of the cave. Aghar seldom work for themselves; more often, they are the slaves of a more powerful race.”
Di An frowned at that.
“A race that is hoarding cinnabar,” Catchflea added thoughtfully.
“So it seems,” Riverwind replied.
Riverwind was first on the ladder. Its rungs creaked suspiciously under his weight. He was twice the size of any gully dwarf, who weren't famous for the quality of their carpentry anyway. Riverwind took the rungs three at a time and hoped they wouldn't snap. The ladder bowed and wobbled, but he managed to reach the top. He braced himself with his arms and peered out.
They were indeed at the bottom of another huge cavern. Riverwind was in the middle of what looked like a city street-but what a strange city! The fine stone buildings were tumbled-down ruins. The walls of the cavern were dotted with odd sights. Ledges and ridges held the remains of ancient dwellings. Here and there, light filtered out of the crumbled buildings, proof that someone occupied them.
Di An tapped his leg. “You going out?” she said.
Riverwind levered himself up and popped out of the hole. The ground around the hole was paved with worn stone blocks. This had been a busy street once, long ago. There was something familiar about this place; he tried to remember. What was the name of the city that fell into the ground during the Cataclysm? His father had told him a tale about it.
Di An, moving like a wraith, slipped out of the hole and crouched beside Riverwind. Catchflea came out at last, wheezing. Both the plainsman and the elf girl said, “Shh!”
They had come out at the intersection of three roads, all lined with burning torches, near the ruin of a large, round tower. The tower was a broken shell now, but it afforded the three a good place to take cover.
Riverwind, Catchflea, and Di An peeked through holes in the tower wall. On their right, water gushed down the walls of the cavern, pooling and flowing down the center of the road. On the other side of the street stood a large, low building, obviously constructed out of the remains of earlier houses. Smoke drifted out of crude chimneys in the roof. The door and window openings were empty.
The stream of water flowed down the center road and into a small pond. Rising behind the pond was an elegant, decayed facade with columns and a peaked roof. It was probably a palace. More solid buildings bulked beyond.
To their left was another long, low building. This one had torches on brackets along the outside.
“What do you make of it?” Riverwind asked.
“Very cozy, yes. But who lives in a ruined city besides gully dwarves? And where is everyone?” Catchflea queried. When Riverwind didn't reply, the old man said, “I want water and food. And I can see where the water is, yes?”
He strode out of the ruined tower before Riverwind or Di An could stop him. Catchflea peered furtively down the street, then walked to the stream. He knelt and buried his face in the bubbling water.
Riverwind licked his cracked lips. So far, so good. “Seems safe enough,” he murmured. He stepped over the low, crumbling wall. “Are you coming?”
“No,” Di An replied. Where there were slaves, there had to be masters. The idea made her very nervous.
“Very well. I'll fill a bottle for you.” Riverwind took out his copper canteen and unscrewed the stopper.
Catchflea was splashing water on his face and neck when Riverwind joined him. “It's glorious, yes!” he said. “Finer than the finest vintage.”
Riverwind agreed by burying his head in the cool, sweet water. He and the old man drank deeply and sluiced the liquid over their sweaty bodies.
Back in her hiding place at the ruined tower, Di An could bear it no longer. The lure of the water was too strong. She stood to leap over the rubble of the tower.
And just as quickly dropped back down again. There were five horrible-looking creatures moving stealthily up on Riverwind and Catchflea! The creatures were taller than the gully dwarves and heavily built. They wore leather armor and carried short swords. The elf girl chewed her lip in desperation. If she called out, she might alert other creatures. If she didn't call out…
One of the creatures swung his sword and knocked River-wind into the stream. The young plainsman came out sputtering in surprise. He found himself facing five goblins. Though more than a head shorter than the tall plainsman, the goblins were armed and he was not.
“Don't.move,” growled the goblin. “Drop weapon.”
Catchflea was staring at the soldiers. He made as if to sidle away, but two of the creatures advanced on him, swords drawn. He stopped moving, a nervous smile on his face.
“Drop weapon in river, now,” said the leader more loudly.
Riverwind drew his saber out with his left hand, but instead of dropping it into the river, he tossed it in the air and caught it with his right hand. The creatures all moved back a pace, grumbling and muttering.
“You drop!” the leader shrieked poking his own weapon at the plainsman. “You drop or I call big boss!”
Riverwind considered his ability to make a run for it around these fellows. Five armed and angry goblins were more than he could handle, what with the added handicap of Catchflea. He sent his gaze toward the old man. Catch-flea gave a tiny shrug. He would be of no use in battle.
“He don't drop, Grevil,” rasped one of the goblins.
The leader growled, and one of his followers whacked the speaker smartly on the head with the flat of his blade. The unfortunate fellow dropped like a stone and lay silent.
One down, Riverwind thought.
“Grevil!” a voice boomed out. All the goblins jumped as if they'd been struck. Grevil-the leader-yelled, “Big boss coming! Now you drop!”
Riverwind glanced to his right, and his body stiffened in shock. It was not another goblin that approached. A creature fully his own height, broad, brawny, and covered in green scales strode rapidly toward them. Yellow eyes with vertical pupils glittered in the torchlight, and a toothless beak of a mouth finished off the fearsome face. The tops of short, leathery wings rose over his head, and Riverwind was astonished to see a long, spiked tail lashing behind him. The creature wore plate armor on his chest, arms, and the fronts of his legs. Only twenty yards separated the scaled, reptilian warrior from Riverwind.
Catchflea gasped. “What in the name of Majere is that?” he hissed.
Suddenly, a rock whizzed from the tower wall and struck Grevil in the head. He whirled, and a veritable rain of stones pelted the goblins. Riverwind knew who threw stones like that. Di An.
He caught a glimpse of her short, stiff hair outlined against the white stone walls of the old tower. The goblins were yelling and slashing at the rocks with their swords. Riverwind leaped and ran, yanking Catchflea to his feet.
“Come on, Di An!” he shouted. She hopped over a low stone pile and ran like a rabbit.
“Down the hole, both of you,” Riverwind snapped. Di An reached it first. She clasped the ladder rails and gripped with her feet, sliding down the long, flimsy length in two blinks of an eye. Catchflea arrived puffing, and he was unceremoniously stuffed down after the elf girl. Riverwind had to wait his turn, but now the goblins were upon him. Behind them came the scaled warrior.