“Gnomes,” Thildemar said.

  Dacius nodded gravely. “Stay sharp, people. They may still be around. String your bows and keep them ready. Thildemar, keep an eye on our back trail.” These orders given, he slammed his helm back into place and drove a trail up to the road.

  They marched for several hours without sight of gnomes or any other creature. As evening neared, they began searching for a good campsite. The ground sloped sharply on either side of the road, making their choices slim. In the end, they settled for a shallow cave slightly downhill from the path. It scarcely had room for them all, but a thin ledge by the entrance provided shelter for a fire.

  They gathered what wood they could find, but waited until Deneob had set to light it, lest the smoke betray them. Once the blaze was going, Drup assembled their rations and started portioning out a meal. The look on his young face was uncharacteristically grim.

  “How long will it last?” Father Marcus asked.

  “Three meals,” Drup answered. “Five, if we spread them thin.”

  The High Bishop closed his eyes for a moment, deep in thought or prayer. “Three. Make us hot meals now and at dawn. We’ll need them to fight back the cold. Hold out only enough for a light lunch.”

  Chentelle felt a surge of excitement at his words. “Are we close? Will we reach the city tomorrow?”

  Father Marcus shook his head, but his calm smile never wavered. “I do not know where we are, Chentelle, or where Marble Falls lies. But I believe we will reach it.”

  “Then let us hope,” A’stoc said without emotion, “that your faith is rewarded.”

  They ate a large meal and set up camp. In the morning, they reversed the ritual. The day greeted them brightly. No new snow had fallen, and the dome of dull clouds showed signs of disintegrating under the twin suns’ light.

  Dacius and Sulmar plowed a path up a long series of switchback trails. Around noon, they rounded the edge of a long ridge and stopped in their tracks. A long valley lay below them, closed on its southern end but extending for leagues to the north. A downward trail wound northwest into the valley, and a dwarven pylon stood beside it. The northwest face was engraved with a shepherd’s crook, while the southwest bore the sign of the mountain.

  Their eyes searched the snow of the ridge line. Gradually, the signs of the trail became visible. It ran all the way around the closed end of the valley, staying nearly at a level. On the far side, it tacked back and forth, climbing into the saddle of a twin-peaked mountain—a mountain identical to the carving on the marker.

  “Praise the Creator,” Father Marcus said, his tone possibly hinting that his faith had been uncertain.

  They lunched where they were, within sight of their destination, and then resumed their trek. Less snow had fallen on this side of the ridge, and the little that had was already melting under the Sister’s warmth. They walked easily through the hand’s breadth or so that remained, stretching their legs gratefully into long strides. Nightfall was still an hour away when they started up the last of the switchback trails to the city.

  Dacius motioned for a stop and pulled off his helm. “Father Marcus, these people have been separated from the Realm for a long time. We don’t know what kind of a reception we’ll receive. Do you wish to announce yourself?”

  The priest considered. “No, not unless it becomes necessary. It would be better to keep our mission secret. I will let you take the fore. Make what arrangements you can for supplies and information, but it must be done before morn. We dare not stay longer.”

  Dacius nodded and tucked his helm under one arm. He took the lead, motioning for Leth and Gerruth to flank him. Drup and Thildemar fell to the rear of the company, and they began the final ascent to Marble Falls.

  A wall of stone loomed above the road to their right. To the left, the mountain fell away in a sheer drop to the last leg of the trail, forty cubits below. The bricks of the wall were polished smooth like river rock, and the lines of their joining were thinner than hair.

  “Halt!” A small figure jumped into the road before them, appearing from a door that had been invisible a moment before. He wore steel armor and wielded a shield in one hand and a loaded crossbow in the other. A clatter of metal above them announced the arrival of several more dwarves at the top of the wall. “State your business!”

  “We are travelers,” Dacius said, extending an empty hand. “We are in need of lodging and provisions, and we seek the town of Marble Falls.”

  The dwarf’s eyes remained hard beneath his spiked helm. “Are you merchants?”

  “No,” Dacius answered, “though we may have some objects to trade. We are merely passing through.”

  “Passing through to where? And what are elves and humans doing in these mountains? Your lands are far away.”

  A red flush came to Dacius’ cheeks. “As I have said, we are travelers in need of lodging. We seek the hospitality of Marble Falls, if such a thing exists.”

  “Have a care, human!” The dwarf pounded his shield against the wall, raising an impressive clang. “You will find only a hard road unless I am satisfied about your business. Now, identify yourselves.”

  Dacius lifted his helm and lowered it slowly into place. The vorpal steel flashed brightly as it bonded to the mystic armor. “I AM LORD DACIUS GEMINE, LEGION COMMANDER OF THE FIRST MARK. MY COMPANIONS AND I TRAVEL UNDER THE BANNER OF THE REALM, THE FREE JOINING OF THE COMMUNITIES OF MEN.”

  The dwarf took a startled step backward, but then he steadied himself and raised his crossbow. “Very impressive, but you’ll forgive me if I don’t accept that on faith. Anyone can—”

  “Grimdel!”

  The shout was punctuated by a drumbeat that echoed like thunder off the valley walls. An elderly dwarf had appeared from farther up the road. He was tall for his race, nearly two cubits in height, and dressed quite conservatively. His pale pink robe was accented only by a pointed green cap and an emerald studded belt, into which his long gray beard was tucked. Platinum threads were woven through both hair and whiskers, but the ruby chips they held were used only for highlights. He held a small drum in one hand, and a small golden rod in the other. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “I—I’m guarding the road, Uncle, like you told me to.”

  “Yes, against bandits and gnomes!” The old dwarf waved his hands wildly through the air. “Do they look like gnomes to you? Do they look like bandits? Do you see them charging up the road with weapons drawn? In fact, do you see them doing anything other than looking like weary travelers trying to find shelter from the cold?”

  Grimdel hung his head meekly. “No, Uncle.”

  “Good, then why don’t you and your boys go back to your mead and let me greet our guests properly.” The old dwarf waved the guardsmen back into their hiding places. “Oh, and Grimdel? Your vigilance is laudable. Just remember to temper it with wisdom.”

  Grimdel perked up and straightened his shoulders. “Come on, boys, the mead’s getting cold.”

  The old dwarf waited until the guards disappeared, then bowed deeply to the company. “I beg you pardon for Grimdel’s enthusiasm. We have had some trouble with gnomes, lately, and it has put some of the warriors on edge. I am Hammond, one of the Elders of Marble Falls. On behalf of my fellows, I welcome you and offer you the hospitality of our Home.”

  Dacius slipped off his helm and returned the bow. “Your apology is as gracious as your greeting, and I accept them both in kind. I can well understand your warriors’ caution. We saw signs of gnomish activity just yesterday, near an avalanche that covered your road.”

  “What? Again?” The gold rod twitched agitatedly in Hammond’s fingers. “Blast their hides. Now we’ll have to divert workers to clear the road and additional guards for safety. It will put us way behind in our work.”

  “Your work?” Dacius asked.

  Hammond looked at him strangely. “Why, building Marble Falls, of course. Creating the Home is every dwarf’s first job, as well as his greatest love. What is your work?”

  “At the moment,” Dacius said, “my job is finding a path for my companions into the lands to the west. We need lodgings for the night and supplies for the journey. Also, if you can give us any information, or especially a map, I would be most grateful.”

  “Of course, of course.” Hammond smiled genially. “I have already promised you our hospitality. The information, though, is a bit trickier. Perhaps if I knew the nature of your journey?”

  Dacius hesitated. “We are—searching for something.”

  “Ah, no matter.” The dwarf shrugged. “None of my business anyway, I’m sure. Well, follow me. We can talk once you’re settled in.”

  He led them through a succession of wide streets. Square buildings lined the road, constructed with characteristic precision and care. Seamless walls formed a perfect grid on a plateau of polished granite. Every building was immaculate, every thoroughfare spotless, but there were no people. The wind whistled through empty corridors of stone.

  “It’s so cold,” Chentelle said. “How can you live here?”

  “It is in our nature. Dwarves have always been explorers, seeking out new lands, new beauty. Where you see a forbidding wilderness, we see a landscape of stone and soil and precious minerals. The earth speaks to us, when we listen, and Marble Falls sings in rare and wonderful fashion.” Hammond paused, and laughed softly. “I sound like one of your elven poets, don’t I?”

  The dwarf led them to a huge building in the center of the town. The hall was built to a giant’s scale, with stone doors ten cubits high set in walls twice that height. A stable sat beside, filled with neatly stacked hay and empty of horses. Hammond pressed on one of the doors, and it swung silently inward. “This is our Earthhall. It is the only building large enough for everyone to be comfortable. You will find rooms upstairs with beds to accommodate several species.”

  Chairs of various sizes ringed a large table which dominated the interior of the hall. The table was perfectly level, but chairs sat in tapered channels so that a giant at one end could speak comfortably with a dwarf seated at the other. Smaller tables lined the walls, each designed to a different scale. Evidently this hall had been designed before news of the demise of the giants reached this isolated region.

  “By the Creator.” Chentelle ran her fingers across the table built for elves. The stone was cool and perfectly smooth. It whispered to her of loving care and skilled hands, but the touches were old. It had been decades, perhaps centuries, since anyone had sat here. “Beautiful, but it’s so lonely. The whole town is. Where is everyone?”

  “Why, in Marble Falls, of course.” A look of comprehension swept across the old dwarf’s face. “Ah, I see the source of your confusion. These meager dwellings are not Marble Falls. The Home lies within the mountain. This is just the temporary camp we raised while the construction got under way. Now, they serve as lodgings for newcomers until they earn a place in the boroughs. But winter is nearly here; we are unlikely to receive settlers this year. In fact, very few families have joined us in recent years.”

  “That’s because no one knows where you are!” Chentelle said. “I mean, the dwarves told us a town had been settled, but they didn’t know where it was or whether it still existed. Isn’t that right, Dacius?”

  The human nodded. “It’s true, Hammond. Marble Falls is little more than a memory to the peoples of the Realm.”

  “I see.” The dwarf frowned thoughtfully. “Disturbing, but it makes sense. We have been too busy to maintain regular contact with the other homes, and the Erietoph is a forbidding boundary.” He shuddered, then shook his head and smiled. “I thank you for this news. I shall take it up with the council. Now, what information can I give you in return?”

  “Tell us about the lands to the west,” Dacius said. “What can we expect to find and what advice can you give us?”

  “Advice?” Hammond said. “That’s easy. Don’t go. The Mountains of Time are harsh landlords, and this is going to be a hard winter. The first storm has already hit. Soon, the passes will be blocked for good. You will be lucky if you make the Long Lake before it freezes.”

  “Long Lake?” Dacius said. “Where is that? Do you have a map?”

  “A map?” Hammond smiled. “We don’t need one. It’s in the mountains. The Long Lake is just past the western range. Either of the main passes will take you to it. As for what’s beyond it, well, it’s the edge of the world.”

  “What?”

  Confusion rippled through the company.

  Hammond waited while they regained their calm. “Ten leagues beyond Long Lake lies Karsh Adon, the Barrier Ridge. It is a sheer cliff, more than three thousand cubits high. No one knows how far it extends. Our scouts have followed it for a hundred leagues in either direction without reaching its end. Some say that the Creator lives beyond it and that he raised Karsh Adon to keep us from discovering his mysteries. Personally, I do not believe that. The rocks are formidable, but they are rocks. Eventually, we will scale their heights, but we must secure the Home first. If the object of your search lies beyond the Barrier, then your task is hopeless.”

  All eyes turned to Father Marcus.

  The priest closed his eyes in concentration. When he spoke, his words rang with finality. “We must go beyond.”

  “So,” Hammond said. “The leader makes himself known. Well, holy man, you are either a lunatic or on a mission of great importance.”

  “The latter,” Father Marcus said. “Our quest is urgent, and it requires both caution and secrecy.”

  “Obviously,” the dwarf replied, “but I urge you to reconsider. The Barrier Ridge has never been climbed, and your party is ill-equipped for such a trial.”

  “Nevertheless, we must undertake it.” Father Marcus’ tone was calm but firm. “You mentioned a lake. Is there a boat to ferry us across, or must we circumnavigate it?”

  “Have you heard a word I said?” Hammond threw up his arms in frustration. “It can’t be done! Go home!”

  “No.” Iron sounded in the word. “If you cannot guide us farther, then we will continue on our own. I thank you for your hospitality. We must leave in the morning. If you can give us supplies and direct us to the quickest pass, we will be grateful.”

  Hammond laughed heartily and slapped his chest. “Such determination! It does you proud, holy man. You will have your supplies, and what other help I can offer. But first, you will have a proper welcome to the Home of Marble Falls. Come. Tonight you dine under the mountain.”

  They stowed their gear and followed Hammond back out into the settlement. Both suns had set, now, but lines of adartak shone softly along each side of the street. The dwarf led them northward along one of the avenues, and they soon left the walled square of the surface city.

  The path curved gracefully westward, winding around the twin peaks and sloping downward on the far side. Half a league or more of walking brought them to a towering fortress, built back into the face of the mountain. Crenellated walls guarded a pair of nested iron gates, and slits in both walls and ceiling told of dangers that would meet any attackers.

  A thick-limbed dwarf hopped up onto the battlements as they approached. “Who approaches the gate to Marble Falls?”

  “I do,” Hammond shouted. “I have invited these travelers to dine with me inside the Home.”

  “And I refuse to admit them.”

  “What?” Hammond glowered and hefted his drum and golden rod as if they were weapons. “I’m in no mood for nonsense, Pontale. These people have been met too rudely already.”

  “Do you call the safety of the Home nonsense, Elder?” Pontale jabbed an accusing finger toward Sulmar. “No Tengarian will pass through these gates while I am Master.”

  Chentelle looked a question at her liegeman.

  “Blood has been spilled between Tengar and the dwarves,” Sulmar said. “The Small Ones have started mines in mountains that have long been claimed by the Great Kings.”

  “You see!” the Gate Master yelled. “He admits it. They claim to own a mountain because they can see its surface. I might as well set out in a boat and claim right to all the fish in the sea.”

  “But Sulmar isn’t a Tengarian anymore,” Chentelle said. “He was—he’s with us, now. Doesn’t that make a difference?”

  “No.”

  “Pontale, you fool.” Hammond’s hand twitched and two sharp beats roared from the drum. “These are the first humans and elves ever to visit the Mountains of Time. Will you have it echoed through the Seven Ranges that the dwarves of Marble Falls throw decent folk to the winter? Use your eyes! This is a holy man. These are Legionnaires. Have you forgotten that the veins of our people stretch back through the Realm?”

  The Gate Master bristled but did not back down. “I know our history, Hammond, and I know our laws. I will not allow a Tengarian spy into the Home, and not even an Elder can overrule me in this.”

  “You are right,” Hammond said softly. “I can’t overrule you, but I can convene the council and make a motion to remove you from your post.”

  Once, twice, three times the Gate Master opened his mouth only to close it again without speaking. “All right,” he said finally, “everyone except the Tengarian can enter, but they have to leave their weapons here.”

  “No!” Chentelle cried. “I’m not going to leave Sulmar out here alone. If Sulmar can’t go, then I won’t either. I don’t think I want to see Marble Falls anymore.”

  “Chentelle speaks for us all,” Father Marcus said. “It is sad, for I would have loved to have beheld the beauty of your Home and hospitality. With your permission, we will return to the Earthhall.”

  “A moment, friends.” Hammond sounded one firm retort on his drum. “Your decision is unsatisfactory, Pontale. Since when do we demand that guests render themselves defenseless? And do you expect them to dine in comfort while their comrade squats outside the gate like a scavenger? Detail some men to escort them back to the topside dwellings. I will assemble the council immediately. I suggest you prepare your oration.”

  The Gate Master shuffled his feet nervously. “Uh, just a minute, Elder. Perhaps I was too hasty—Yes, I think I was. They can keep their arms, and if you will speak for the Tengarian, I will let him enter.”